The Moment I Think of You

The moment I think of you,
my heart seems to miss a beat,
like missing a step
where a stair should be.
My body suddenly remembers
what it feels like
to lose its balance.

And so the world has
a small collapse in it,
not deep,
only a hidden dip,
just enough
for one person
to stumble and slip.

That flutter in the heart
is knowing the cliff is near,
yet still longing
for the tempting warmth
rising from somewhere sheer.

It is knowing
the bubble will break,
yet still loving
the trembling fullness
it holds before it shakes.

So many times,
I step carefully
onto that stair again,
feeling the racing heart,
the fall,
and the slow return
to the floor.

But there is always
one piece missing there.

As if fate
had carved it out for me,
in the exact shape
of an abyss.