on a balcony
in a dimly lit theater
she's precariously leaning
towards a dramatic headline
'cross the top of the obituaries
another's hands rest
upon her alabaster shoulders
revealed by a ballgown's
slipping silver sleeves
anxiously preparing
for a moment of life-saving
yet another beckons,
"release your hold,
i will catch you"
while standing meters below
on scarlet flooring
treacherously tempting her
one deep intake of breath
and she's falling back into the arms
of the one waiting
behind the balustrade
she cries out
"liar!"
to the one lingering below
for the sanguine floor
was only a glimpse of the future
her own blood, the dye
once more
inhale the cold air
of the theater
empty save one
never was there
another above
and one beneath
not to worry though
for her
this happens all the time
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