we're miles in the sky,
the timber line invisible now,
the nosebleed air thin and
about to paint our faces
red.
-
you had told me how you'd
love to climb the empire state
building, to climb it and fall
out of the fifteenth story
before it was blown up from
another anti-american bombing.
-
i always gave you what you wanted.
don't sleep, you'd tell me
over the phone. [it was two o'clock
on a school night. i would walk the halls
the next day with shadows like
sharpies drawn under my
eyes. because you asked me to.]
don't leave me, you'd say.
and would let you keep those bruises
on my skin forever because you asked me to.
i won't leave you, i'd say. just don't
leave me.
-
i wish i had a spine that night,
with the stars to our backs as we
snuck into new york's finest.
let's go to the very top,
you'd say. some thousand stairs later,
we made it. out of breath and giddy
from the lack of oxygen. let's step
over the railings, you had said.
and i couldn't deny you with the first
signs of sparkles in your eyes that i've
seen in ages.
-
the wind was cold. the wind was fucking
cold. the air would rip through my lungs
like they weren't there at all. blood
like nitroglycerine spilled from my nose,
and i stumbled back over the railing with
my head back, keeping the blood in my head
and a hand reaching for the tissues in my
bag.
remember how i told you about the
dreams i'd had about the empire state building?
you said. my already-frozen hands stopped moving.
i let my nosebleed become a fountain as my
scarf turned incarnadine. well, i'm tired of
dreaming. i need something real. don't wait for me.
i saw a smile stretch your cheeks and
your feet touch nothing.


i didn't wait for the crash. because you asked me to.