bridge jumper

beam
after beam--
i build a bridge
between today
& tomorrow-- 
ankles 
in river water--
i drop from 
windowsill--
a potted 
bonsai tree-- roots
making fists--
arms wistful
for height--
when i turn a page
i turn with my 
whole body-- turn
my head into a windmill
& rush wild & 
jumping & falling--
because there's no
such thing as jumping
without falling--
i'll confess to 
you i have been waiting
in this airport
each night
& pretending 
i'm here to say 
goodbye to someone
who i've always loved
but never properly 
kissed-- she-
he
they 
get on the plane--
they don't turn
to glance back at me--
i'm waiting
to be remembered by 
them-- 
in the mean time i look
up at the tall 
airport ceiling-- 
i imagine
that the woman's voice
on the intercom
is the course voice of
god telling us to get
ready to board 
at gate 19--
she is a funny god
of radio tongue &
goodbyes broken
on kitchen floors--
she blows planes
into the air 
like dandelion 
fluff-- haphazard 
& untamable--
she grows our wings 
at the feet
of bonsai trees--
if i stay here 
in this airport
no one will ever guess
that i don't know where
i'm going--
i can lilt between gates--
adrift-- falling--
jumping 
again & again
from this bridge i build--
this bridge of
sand & knee-bones--
of sleep-less bodies
& moon-empty sky
fall--no--
plummet into 
sunrise with me
you'll watch me
in this airport
& see a
boy-girl?
pausing on a bench--
anticipating 
a pair of wings--
a flight 
not to get on but
to watch taking off--
i want someone to
take off with me--
to jump & not land--
when i was six i used
to worry that if i fell
off at the top of
the swing
that i would just keep
going & going--
the edge of
each day is a night
paved with stars--
a runway--
the voice of god
is full of gravel--
catch me
in a palm full
of stones--
ankles in river water--