trust fall

i end up on the other side of 
the moon with my feet in the air.
we buy only left shoes 
for a whole year & try to get along.
i have snippets of a dream in which
i am unprepared. i cross my arms
across my chest & ask you to catch me.
you do not (cliche) or you do (cliche).
we eat ice cream until the sun
is bored & goes to get his hair done. 
when you get right down to it
there is not much to do. once i fell 
& my guardian angel caught me. 
i saw his horror face & screamed. 
"there is too much screaming" someone says
who has had the pleasure of not
having their lungs scream at them
or their joints scream at them or the sky
sometimes shake her fist & scream at them.
i prefer movies with no trust & no story.
let the vibe knit us a great trust.
something warm as a golden bowl
of melted butter. when i was small
& could not sleep i would beg for
cinnamon sandwiches. wheat bread 
with bitter cinnamon. i think i craved
a really solid fall. i learned 
how to get up on the roof of the house
from my dad. there he stood one morning
& i asked him, "have you been here
all night?" he asked,
"can i trust you?" that is how i learned
to catch someone three times my size.
he is shrinking now so it'll be easier
if i end up there again. sometimes i want
to ask my brother if he ever caught 
our father but i think it might end up
sounding like i'm bragging. it is always
better to do the catching than the falling.
i have mastered doing both
at once. we played "trust falls"
in elementary school when the sun
was a softer color. a girl with cucumber melon
body spray caught me. i forget if it 
was in gym class or just the playground.
i remember feeling surprise at the lack
of catastrophe. no one dropped anyone.
not even the boys. not even the bells.
not even the sky.