It’s not the darkness that I fear.
We have made up
And she is welcome in my house anytime!

She was the one I never understood
the shadow-twin of my goodness,
my light.
They exist only together,
inseparable as breath and body.

What makes me tremble at night is
Not the darkness.

It is the groundlessness.

When there is nothing beneath me
When I am free falling
And grasping
Reaching for all those
Illusions I’ve created over
A lifetime.

Like dying twigs from and old Oak,
They do little to break my fall.
And yet I grasp anyway
I reach for them.

What if I were to just fall?

What if I would relent in my grasping?

What if I were to welcome annihilation?

I’ve tasted it once before.

And its flavor was—
unexpectedly—
sweet honey.