my cliff


You are my cliff
And I am she, who jumps
The bottom, though far,
Does not seem so low to me
For I’ve come from lower, still
From gut bottom to cliff’s edge
I’ve climbed
And climbed again
Fingers stomped on
Peeled away
Falling back to my lowly home
Each time I’ve fallen
Only to rise
Stronger than before
I know the cliff
Better than it knows itself
Should I be inclined to destroy it, I could
But, then, who would I become
Without my cliff to climb?
What other height would I aspire to?
What depths would embrace me
When you have had your fill?

One thought on “my cliff

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