I migrate to the cusp.
To where soil meets the abyss
And dangle my stilts over the ledge.
Resting my rickety spine on clay putty.
The horizon bares my ail.
It's vacuum grips my gritty scab
Skinning my coarse wound.
Bile spews out profusely!
It seeps deep into the bottomless pit,
Banishing it to infinity and beyond.
Pins and needles seize
As my flesh breathes in relief.
The static cauterizes my gangrene
Into sheen jade porcelain.
A priceless slate, squeaky clean.