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.