In the end of the world
you are un-flattered. In
the end, the world’s
trapeze is like a
chain from which you are
unfettered. In the end
of the world, our houses
are spun from the legs
like the webs of spiders,
as they become some other’s
cages. In the end of the
world the sky is cleared
of clouds, the mountain’s
peaks are pulled, with summits
that fall then
rise like tides
pulled by mercury.
In the end of the world,
we fly like birds
behind the waterfall.
With no front or back,
are like lovers only
once in life, and lose
all perspective that’s been
tried so hard to keep.
The words are lost,
spoken with doubt, unsure.
They are stretched and slurred
and like the collision
of heat and light,
this is love,
in the end of the world.