The Precipice of Desire


The merest thought of you
brings me to the edge
of Love's cliff face,
the precipice
of desire.

Here I teeter, and rock,
thrilling with the desire to leap
face first
into the chasm,
to cast doubt to the wind,
to fall into you.

Once, when I was young and brave,
I would have stumbled over the edge
without ever knowing it was there.

Once, when I was in pain,
suffering the torments
of Love despoiled,
I would have spat into the wind
then wondered why my face was wet.

And there was a time, my sweet,
when I would have lied
and told the world that I had leapt -
only to climb free
in victory.

Instead, I find myself
warmed by the updraft,
thrilled by possibilities,
charmed by my own desire,
knowing only
that this is where I remain.

©2011 Christopher Reilley

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