Salt on My Lips

Just as the world tilts forward,

and we are deaf to each other.

We reach the bend too late to see it,

the turn beyond return.

At the end of the road

a silent cliff opens

a silence woven

from the echoes of our screams

---

My throat knotted with unsaid words.

I had not yet fallen,

but the taste of falling

was already gathering on my lips;

like salt, I knew it would.

---

There are sparks in your eyes,

the fire of your hatred still burns me.

I look away.

Each time I believe it will be different,

each time I touch the brake

yet the pull of speed seizes me again.

---

Each time the descent takes me,

the strong and the afraid

sliding down at the same speed.

---

And still the world leans further.

I do not scream.

I hang above the moment,

my apology the only weight I carry

as if regret could soften

the earth below.