I dive right in even though
I know that by the time I get
to the bottom the pool will
be shallow

and when I stand up and shake
the water from my hair and
open my eyes I know for certain
that the water will have drained

away entirely. Just me, soaking,
sopping, sobbing in an empty
pit of gray concrete. I will still
dive because that
                               fall
                                    
through the                      air

will be the most precious thing,
I suspect. I am sure it will be for
nothing in the end but before then,
it will be for you.

I will do it for you and for my
own selfish reasons, because it's
you, I know, and I will never find
another like you nor will I try.

When you leave I want to remember
you properly, with your eyes shining
but not from tears. Smiling eyes,
laughing pools of brown, open.

Always I will remember you and
I want the memories to be perfect
because I love you and I am not
as selfless as you and I want to

remember love this way so that
when I fall into the shallow water
and the shock flows up my spine
and stings my soul I can remember

your face and remember
that I did it for you, that love is strong
enough to push acrophobia off the
edge and send it     
                                 s       o    a    r       i    n    g  

with arms spread wide and eyes wide
open. Maybe if I can remember that, the
soaring before the fall, I will try again
to find it even though I know it won't

be your fall. I will continue in search
of it anyway, a hopeless search for
something halfhearted, but I will
continue it whole-heartedly, that I

might always be reminded of you.
And now, I will embrace the concrete
floor, the stinging of the spirit and
the soaring of the soul, as I fall, that

you might see my smile and enjoy
the fall with me,
before it crashes.

That is how much I love you.