Love is the lie that keeps us alive.

It catches the string of our shirt

As we jump for the edge

Of the cliff.

Falling, the string will unravel,

thinning all the while.

Foam will curl and

Spray; the acrid taste

of salt water will sting

Your eyes.

There you’ll strain against it, yearning for

the dark waters, beckoning you

with their mysterious

depths, all to no avail.

Love will pull you by

That single strand

of a spider’s web.

A word, a look,

A smile caught in mundane

conversation; rose-colored lenses

Capture the moment,

Stretch it, sew it into

Your memory. There

Love will latch,

Clasping your open

Palms to bring

You from the edge

And into its ghostly

Arms once again.