A Balancing Act

With nothing but the wind we are sent spiraling perilously to earth.

I find my balance on a rope strung between impossibility and improbability.

When crossed is not the desired destination in either direction.

How long can you stand there on the knives edge.

Once you were gone, if ever, the safety net disappeared.

All that is left is the cold hard reality of concrete.

That which will steal my last breath from the both of us if I lose what little balance is left.