I was taken last night,
the beating heart of a love
young and quick
ripped from the chasm
that is my chest.
Now our bodies
cold and hollow
rest upon the shore
of tears and lies
promises and anger,
just the top of the pile of many.
In the eyes of the fearful,
our bodies stroke the skies:
Why jump if it’s so short lived?
But me, soaking in
the salt foam and sand,
do not regret a second of
                                                 freefall.
It was beautiful, short as it was,
and edged in gold
in the book that is my memory.

Impact was not kind
to bodies so hollowed as us.
The dust of so many before
cloud around our crater.
Yes, we fell hard,
but we are not dust yet.
So many broken bones...
Count the bruises with me,
and use a tourniquet,
you just can’t use me anymore.
I won’t climb back up with you,
but I hope that you will.
I want to, one day,
watch you freefall with another,
to be happy with any other;
it just can’t be me anymore.

Until then, I’ll lay here,
only looking up,
closing my eyes to the sound
of hollowed bodies hitting the sand.