Falling off the building weeping could have transcended the
sublime, ignored the ridiculous, been an event;
Except you were there, spinning and dancing.
A perfectly balanced top, your colors blurred to gray.
I should have reached out, touched you, taken the risk.
Off balance would you have spun away to oblivion?
Spinning and dancing, you come closer, then tilt away, just
out of reach.
I stand, heels hanging, back to the abyss.
Summer 1990