DUAL

​

I stray to the dizzy brink;

clumps bleed from the ragged meat of my soles

as they meet its whetted edge. My flesh splits

 

like an axed trunk, twin selves bowing

over the precipice, east and west,

the hot wire of indecision burning its way to the

 

soft creamy clot of curdling cerebrum: it bi-

furcates fluently, slides

as two over-ripe dollops, weighting

 

identical boughtips, ready to plummet

into the wet-rim gape of darkmouths,

where lava field tongues will grate

 

misjudgement, flick and swallow.

Unmapped, this is a place

of

 

unbalance. I welcome falter. Fall. Fate.

A distraction.

A thought

 

that I am thrift, hemmed into

a ledge overlooking the sea,

that a fringe of wind

 

will waft me to the right place.

But outside is rockstill. I cannot perceive

panorama or perspective

 

amidst the discordant noise plucking the backs

of my eyes. Bound-footed, I am caught,

cocooned in dilemma, unable to surrender even

 

to gravity.