Brink

Fear

of seeing him falter
steals the night. Its Latin bell --
carpe noctem,
almost shatters glass.

This man who appears young
in the mirror, a hand
testing the drum of his heart,
feels rhythm off-kilter, killer beat
and killer bees becoming the hum
of my breath. Frenzied.

Who will fall first?

Eve stung by the lung's hive
spinning love
so wild with worry,

or

her tall rib donor
leaning forward in pain
as hair shadows his brow
like the soft wing of a crow.