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.