"Are you alright?"
She asks,
That tell-tale look of
Worry, concern,
Maybe a little bit of love
Flooding her face-
Imagine:
A complexion gone tight,
A pulse skipping as quickly as
Young child in Brooklyn skipping
A rope in fright,
Waiting with anticipation for
The object above inching over
A skinny high-wire between
Two of those Brooklyn city towers,
Waiting to hear it, the thing, the
Invisible power!
Of-
Of a voice. And a smile.
And he smiles,
Drunk without a drop of the poison,
Wrapping an arm around her tired waist as
He gazes out at the city skyline,
Saying happily, "I'm fine."
Just like that he breaks the line,
Sets the hook-
And she falls from the high-wire
As if collapsing into a pile of leaves,
And she closes her eyes,
And she breathes.