beyond vanity, beneath pride

If I should fall a thousand steps into your arms,
will they not wait? For I
let not Cassiopeia move beyond her throne
to encroach my bed.
.                                         Let gravity
seek its master upon my feet
and warm itself in my slippers,

carry me through curtains
and clouds of deceit to reach a haloed moon
in an airless night. If I

should wait a thousand years for a single step into your arms,
will they not open? For I
let wide the gates, and fiery the oil

to relinquish the kingdom and forge
against the current into the quiet distance.

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