My feet slide sideways
as I sway, standing
on uneven rocks. Fear's
voice is coaxing and strained
saying, its solid enough, no it's
not. This is crazy. An anxious
ordering competes, look out,
not down, while, get it over with,
orders another voice, impatience,
gruff with waiting. Jump,
Jump.
I jump, out, into only
thickened molecules,
brushing me with scent,
thin air breaking
promises. My body passes
through water, cushions
of wet, my feet touch soft
mud, toes bend and push
into hard earth.
I go up face wide,
breaching air and paddle
fingers sifting through
cold water silk. A calm
voice whispers, safe, safe.
A clear voice answers,
that which betrays you, can
also save you.
