Falling in Love

please don't make the edge of the stairs the only place to meet reality.
the last thing i ever wanted was to know that sharp line.
i can envision every bounce, every last crack of bone on plaster,
each tiny rugburn, the arhythmic thump of body parts
and the inevitable crunch of skull on floor.
why go through it all, why not just walk away
the thrill of the ride? maybe. the lure of high places? probably.
but what it boils down to is there are no other stairs like these,
and the uniqueness of them, the powerful strange attraction of singularity,
the all embracing all accepting no judgement at all reality of them
won't let me walk away.
and so i fall...again.

copyright 1996 - jem moore