On the edge of the world where doom meets daylight
and soft roses bloom amidst twisted thorns and jackrabbits
foaming at the mouth for bee stings while
honey soaked apothecaries roam in robes
Do you hear
On the edge of your nose, where the light casts shadow
and the twist of your lip heaves a smile to the heavens
for a moment
Do you see
On the edge of her ballet slipper
as she rises and struggles to maintain the position
that doubts fester
like sores among the lepers in the brothels of Bangladesh
where she mentioned in hushed whispers that her
phone was off the hook
when you hung your jacket in the hall
and the door swung open
blasting music into the street
Simon says it's time to seek your medicine
you've been led within only to find
the edge
of the landscape, where sunlight stretches into the horizon
and the grass sways and bobs with the wind
where the long tile floor echoes and exhausts itself
into M.C. Escher patterns into the blinding light
of infinity
you're on the edge
the edge is in you
the edge is in me