Friday, July 4, 2014

the rope

the rope burns
even the most calloused hands as soon as they 
start to panic.
i remember rock-climbing, the spotters at the bottom staring
up with wide moon eyes,
"lean into the hang"
"relax your shoulders"
"trust me"
"you're not going to fall"

her shoulders show sun before her nose,
she puts on make-up with the precision and fervor of a brain surgeon,
when she cries i have to ask twice which species of tears they are-
sometimes i still scramble for the rope
because i am nervous and clumsy
"lean into the hang"
"trust me"

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