poetry

precipice

she loved me
like a snake loves a rat
as it scrambles
slithering trails
and clawed striations
our remembrances
chased to the edge of the world
where the mossy soil crumbles
underfoot
spilling into the abyss
there, at the precipice
only two choices
remain
one, decidely unkind
and I understood, then
why sensible men
climb bridges
and why
some must fly

Published by

Eric

I've come to write.

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