I spy you on a rock at the edge of a cliff. a tiny figure hunched against heaven. the stupid expanse of a building-less sky. I fear dropping you because I can. above you an angle of birds know precisely how to navigate. distance is like this. leaving me excess space to play with my weapons. I hum uncertain beyond the provocation of your back. strands of me dangle from my shirt unwilling to be discarded. no god laughs while slitting the throats of his children, I think. you will stay at the edge of a cloud-rivered abyss. in another expanse, clouds convene over the raft of a survivor, lip-split and issuing confessions. here crickets have convened. shuddering at the scrape of evening’s tongue I lull for your shadow to stand.