Love is the lie that keeps us alive.

It catches the string of our shirt

As we jump for the edge

Of the cliff.

As far as the string unravels,

As thin as it gets,

You will never crash

Into the torrent.

Foam will curl and

Spray; you’ll taste

The salt water stinging

Your eyes.

You may reach your

Hand towards the

Dark waters, beckoning you

With their mysterious

Depths, all to no avail.

Love will pull you by

That thread like a single

Strand of a spider’s web.

It will be 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.