The Fall

Nothing is more important than the fall.
There is drama in the delinquent descent
At all altitudes or velocities.
The trajectory of adversity
Wears a painted face of ancient allure.
The bloody theater of decline
Titillates both our primacy and fear.
The plunge of our peers satisfies our thirst
For another to take what we deserve
And fills us with dread that we are next.

Nothing is more important than the fall.
The lusty tumble of swollen bodies
Locked together in a seamless descent.
When the taste of dissidence has dissolved
And mouths bloom and breathe like musky flowers
We thank the solemn permission of fate
That anyone dared to love us at all.