Meeting

I walk on the ledge of the fence,

Bending down, swaying up,

I try to fly, to soaring heights,

And stumble, gliding as I fall,

Drowning in liquor,

Or drowning in you?

Never mind, I am almost on the ground.

But you stretch your arms,

So, yes, convinced,

I am drowning in you,

Melting in your arms,

As we meet in the middle

-RR


Prompt from Wordofthedaychallenge.

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