You could jump and I’d try to break your fall, when really I’d merely be
falling after you, falling to dusk and the ashes that come when your spirit
bleeds black. I always thought my arms would be open for you, but truly I’m
just as weak, ready to jump and land with you, forsaken by gravity and
abandoned by my tarnished strength. And soon we fall; there we’ll be
together, clinging to the remnants of our vertigo, left bleeding on the
sidewalk.
 
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