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.