Cliff chaser

He is the cliff and I the jumper.

His eyes the ocean at the bottom, what I jump into. Deep and blue and the very color of the back of my closed eyes. His waves are tense and cruel, right before they  are gentle and caressing, steering me towards another waterfall.

It’s like chasing cliffs, the adrenaline junkie refusing to let the ball drop.

Loving him is like bungee jumping – you take the fall and bow down to gravity, hoping the comfort of his arms at the end are enough to soothe the bruises. There is the promise of lush forests and sunny meadows and a cold fresh water creek at the bottom and so you keep going cliff after cliff. The ocean calls and you answer.

It’s like skydiving into every look.

Madness.

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