by Elliott Bell
My mind is always going there.
Where wind whispers in my ear –
Drifting over soft silver edges,
Along silken crimson ledges.
One small step sideways
Hidden from your gaze,
I tiptoe to the precipice,
Gaze down into the abyss.
The column of obscurity beckons –
Could I be flying in only seconds?
I feel my heart prepare to leap
Into velvet darkness of the deep.