Once, there was a balcony your body clutched like a tree limb
But there wasn't enough inertia in your heels
There wasn't enough sorrow in your heart
There wasn't enough of a gust to send you over.

Once, there was the earth my body burrowed into like an urchin
But there wasn't enough soil to cover me
There wasn't enough gravity to immerse me
There wasn't enough wanderlust to keep me digging.

More than once, we had sighed in the glow of a lonely moon
We had misconstrued misfortune for opportunity
And we had became immune to the idea of repose

More than once, we tasted salt; in tears, in seabeds, in seared skin of the heart
We felt faulted, in both spirit and in brooding sincerity
We thought the worries we were haunted by were causeless

We've bared scars on our palms from digging
From gripping on to any bit of the world to stop it from spinning
But when our fingers interlace, and our wounds overlap, you will find a map of home.

Once, we were on a balcony with a bottle of bourbon.
A gust of faith was enough to push you off the edge
A surrender was enough to unearth me.
And together we drown into the pool of how beautiful it is to get lost in vulnerability.