Familiar hands press into my shoulders.
So many memories pulse through palms
warming my skin negating distance
with their intimacy…the calm before terror.
There’s euphoria in the free fall, the weightless
sense of air and sky mixing with adrenaline.
It’s where I’ll land that pulls screams from my throat.
Judgement, the patient bitch, steals the last rose
from my cheeks and pushes its thorns into my bones.
How many pieces of my shell can be glued into resurrection?
“Officer, I told him he shouldn’t sit on the ledge,
but he insisted. He wanted to recreate the photo
I took of him on our first date.”
