Are you sure you want to do this? You have this moment still, a closing chance to take it back. You could remove your hands from my skin, from that place your finger tips are only lightly grazing. You could stop right now, slide straps back onto shoulders and return my shoes. You could make of me the nearly-did, the nearly-made. I am not the one transgressing here. I am your cliff, the edge of you – are you sure tonight that you want to jump?
Because I’m telling you my love – it will feel like falling.
Remember those drugs you never wanted to try? Well darling meet your own narcotic. You’re going to offer your veins from the very first hit. You’ll crave and burn and shiver and beg. Life will splinter apart when you close your eyes, you’re about to become kaleidoscopic. You’ll crack your own mysteries wide open, you’ll forget you know what’s left from right. If you take this step you’ll plummet, then soar. So I’ll ask you again this one last time. Are you sure tonight that you want to jump?
I’m telling you my love – it will feel like falling.
Jagged and jutting, I am your rock. And I’m ready for your disintegration. We’ll re-arrange you so carefully when you land, when you scatter yourself across my skin. It will take only our mouths to change your name. I’m saying it now and I won’t ask again, with your trembling hand against my shoulder. I am not the one transgressing here.
(But when you slide my straps down – it feels like falling).