Vertigo (minus Kirkegaard)

I let my head crash downward, and
I refuse to resist
gravity.

Thus I fall from grace.
————witout any saving grace.

As usual the shock permeates every cell of my
veering body.

I'm clinging to you. Closer than the pair of jeans you're
wearing.

Suddenly I am standing before the abyss.
Distance is in the eye, as much as in the ear.

I'm groping for your hand—— but how can I do so with a phone?

I only have what I have, being what I can only be.

Not much, it is true.