There is the moment
just before you fall
when you know
there is nothing left
to do except
to fall, to fall,
to fall and say yes
to the falling, to fall
and feel yourself
as you fall, how the stomach
rises where the throat
has been, it’s silent,
then—and it’s fast,
you think, so fast,
you are falling and not
a damn thing to be done
except to fall, to notice
the air rush over the skin,
yes nothing to do but
to fall, to keep falling,
to fall.
I didn’t think all that repetition of the word fall and its variations could be used in such a short space effectively, but darn it if you didn’t pull it off, because that is what the mind can’t let go of during the fall. Ouch. Such a pleasurable ouch.
Once you’ve begun falling, there’s no calling it back. Best thing to do, likely the only thing, is to roll with it.
Wow!