The [EDGE] of the World

they stand two-point-four inches apart
at the very [edge] of a tumultuous world
with his hand on her shoulder and her hand
on his still-beating heart; they
breathe cold air like daggers and
exchange promises until the sun
shies away their shadows in the relentless dark.

she – she is ethereal, caught
by a string on a crow’s shining wing.
and you – you are heartbreakingly real,
grounded by a pain that holds you,
and holds him, holds him close,
at the very [edge] of the world together.

her eyes flash like anger past midnight
and her feet tap a tune of no rhythm
while you catch his gaze in sunbeams.

he breathes the shallow air in water
and moves his hair out of the breeze.

she whispers of rivers and unmarked tombs
wherein she laid to rest herself, wherein
you laid to rest the other one you left behind
to float along, alone, past the reaches
of the material world and the beating hearts within it.

he: he is her prize, the man
with the dark brown eyes and the
shadowed stare, the toxic smile
and Icarus’s waxing wings.

and he: he is your privilege, the man
with the dark brown eyes and the
erratic pulse of a drugged survivor –

he
is the one who broke all the clockwork hearts,
who whispered sweet tragedies which fooled
himself, and even you.

she misses his spinning gears, the way
his iron key fit between her metal teeth
in a way which boiled her blood and
widened her eyes to life.

you often wonder how
she could have traded brown eyes for brown eyes
and never seen the difference.

you often wonder how
you held brown eyes for brown eyes
and did not think to switch before.

no matter:
her eyes are dark and daggered
and he is standing by himself.

the others, they
stand four-point-one inches apart
and trade false fortitudes
until midnight trades sunsets
and twilight surrenders.

while she
while he
while you
and while he

breathe toxic air in quickened pulses
breathe toxic air in failing numbers.

so

when the moon turns the clock
past the seventh shadow

you, you stand two-point-eight inches apart

and he, he stares out from the [edge] of the world.