Vulnerability

I’m staring down the barrel
of life
examining each side and peering down,
deep down,
[or, not so deep?]
where it’s too dark to tell—
anything.

So, I slide one leg inside, and wiggle
my toes
[nothing.]
pervading the emptiness with each twirl
of dangling ankles.

Still wanting—something—I lift
my hips
from their perch, daring comfort
and safety
while dangling by less than sufficient biceps.
[too far?]

Strained muscles beg for relief
and pray for reinforcement
[do  I dare?]
trembling with each pulse
and flinching on the off-beat of every
Possibility . . .

The images—memories, fears, desires, newspaper pages
smudged with grubby fingerprints and gossip, textbook lines
rehearsed for the first time in action, and smiles,
oh, the Smiles!—
replay in the half instant it took to decide and act,
[release!]

Fists tighten, eyes clench, muscles lock—fetal position—and then,
it clicks
like the ignition of gas stove after three ticks.
and, I hurl extremities forth into all directions of the abyss
and stare
anonymity—unknown, new frontiers—dead in her ebony eyes
waiting for the impact
but, bracing
nothing.