I'm standing on the edge of a cliff.
The wind is ripping through my hair.
My arms are outstretched: I'm flying.
I can do anything, be anyone.
But I'm pulled back to reality
Knowing you are standing behind me.
I'm standing on the edge of a cliff,
And though you have the power to push me off,
To send me careening towards the bottom of the ravine:
I trust that you won't.
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