image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net by Idea go
We both stared into the abyss.
Ready to make the ritual sacrifices.
I had climbed through the lion’s mouth after him, breathless.
He jumping and running and without any fetters to hold him,
I, stumbling and falling and uncertain.
We were like a comet only back to front, the bright burning tail streaking out,
and the dull, burning lump of dust,
desperate to ignite in the wake of that light.
He pointed into the chasm and I balked,
At demons, eyes on fire and bodies plump and greased with sweat.
They were burning, only playing, they had not seen us yet.
“I live down there, with them” he said.
“What, with them, how?”
“Come down and see,” he said.
When I looked into the wake of those long flames
I wondered how a man like him could exist in such a place,
and how I could ever stand the heat to be with him.
“I’d melt” I cried.
To follow him to oblivion, or to wait on the edge like a death itself,
“Think of all the light left in the world, why are you subservient to shadows?”
He looked at me with those waterfall eyes,
where I, standing at the edge of the abyss was drying up.
“You who were born dancing,” I said to him,
“you’d never let hot coals touch your feet.”
“-and you?” he asked, poised to leap without me.
“All stars are born to burn,” I said,
and I watched his face relent to shock,
as I dived, at last, before him.