you would not have jumped on your own

you can remember your toes
gripping
the cliff's edge
you can remember his hand
pressed into yours
how firm it had seemed
how sure you had been
if there was doubt
you did not listen

you do not remember jumping
just glassy eyes mixed calls hot confusion
you forgot how it felt to be
safe inside only yourself and now
you are falling
and you scream:
How Did I Get Here

the hand that was pressed into yours
is not there
you do not know
exactly when the fingers
uncurled and slipped
away
you search the sky
rushing past
you can see his colors but
not his face
as you plummet
you realize
he is flying

the darkness catches you like a net
it swings itself over you
the thickest brush of sumi ink
the softest blanket the womb
it is still but
you are throbbing
there is a tiny needle in the center of your chest
a red halo is formed
tender like a splinter
you do not understand it
you are afraid

there are beautiful people everywhere
but you do not see them
you know he is flying so
you do not look up
instead
you bury yourself into the dark and
wait
you hold your own hands
they are warm and calloused and familiar

days and days and days

melody begins to
trickle
into the darkness
you don't know
if it is coming from inside of you
or outside of you
the music brushes the side of your face
you nudge it away
more persistent it grabs you
from behind
playfully
you snarl and swing around
you are standing in the daylight

the music grows and
you follow it and follow it
and when you get there you realize
you have forgotten his name
and can recall your own