You falter,
one foot
dangling seamlessly
in midair
before
dropping;

the moment of the fall,
the transcendence of it
makes me wonder if I could go
ahead;

could I explode
into a million
glittering
pieces
and launch myself
past the stars into the
mass gyrating grave of
four million suns?

into a dark not even
light
can escape?

Could I just
suspend there,
at the edge of the
gyre,
feeling my body
lull
into
half-time.

Could I watch, then,
as the Earth spun
in real-time,
allowing me a very
modest
amount of years for
life to settle;
returning when the
time is
right.

My body,
compounding
back into solid flesh,
plunking back to Earth,
just as I had left,
a weeping puppet,
and I’d pretend
as if I’d been there
all this time.