The night is divided into fifteen minute parcels
fits and spurts and the sensation
of falling, the blind terror of being lost in your own body,
of having nothing to catch you for a long moment
as you spiral
downward
like dead wood falling through water,
third person, high angle,
watching as the girl plummets, screaming
and the hero, the eleventh hour, the fifteenth minute comes
just as she crashes into a nothingness thick enough to break bones.
No comments:
Post a Comment