at an edge of language
the end of its path
a flat earth fall off
into black
i reach out, desperate
for a hand to grasp
pull me close, embrace
let me bury my face
in a soft scented neck
no, not at this edge
not yet, not ever
gasping thread airs
learning the light
at nightfall

(c) A. H / K. H-H (14 October 2018)