365 Poems – 157 Slipping Away Underdeveloped (Rough First Draft)

Slipping Away Underdeveloped


I notice your quivering spirit.

It’s just under your fair skin.


You’re routinely damaged,

yet, still risk the dark.


I watch you find holes for

your feet in cliff faces.


I watch you climb higher,

where air is thin, brutal

to the lungs.


You regularly lean

into death, and I close

my eyes, reminding myself

not everyone falls.


Our friendship has been

an era of bafflement.


When I’m absent from you,

I have unbalanced visions

of your future.


People will ask what you

do, and you will reply,

I cultivate mermaids

and teach dogs that

they will always be wolves.


Sometimes, you’ll tell

me about slowly warming

up in bed.


Moments when you are

content – and can rise calm-

please me.


When we  both fall into

an unnatural silence,

there is a double descent.


Your intelligence and charisma

dehydrates. Your serenity

decays  quickly, overtaken by

industrial sized misery.


I slowly introduce light again,

and complain that your spirit is late.