"A realm outside our understanding"
has come to mean the known universe
averaged with the potential for ignorance;
the way the body falls away from its own touch,
the way agoraphobia is exacerbated by flaying.

You are the convergence of asymptotes reaching
collapsed potentials, cold starts, almost,
the endless approaching each self-imposition.
With askance timing, a nervous babble of tired words.
An honest hand sticky with beer takes my rehearsed honesty,
hands me a cold one: cold sweats.
I take it as a handshake.

At a distance I gravitated to myself.
I made plagiarism self-referential,
a squishy analog for the precept of self.
I relived memories indiscriminately,
the way the body is outside understanding,
the way these lines converge with a touch.

Look, let's just fall (Acrostic)

Look, let's just fall and keep ragdolling down,
over and over just sound and the furious vain
outbursts of the wind like breaths against the inevitable
knowing: too soon, too intimately and closely the ground.

look let's just fall facing each other,

even our solipsism, with two eyes tired of looking out,

two brains scabbed from persistent introspection,

sees the same world differently in another.

just falling and holding myself open,
under me a growing concrete collage but I

Shut my eyes, spread out like dangling legs untied

to a crucifix, pretending to fly.

find me out against the sky,

an hour, four miles from where you jumped.
look, let's just fall, let's kick off our shoes,
look, let's waste our time like parachutes.