On the highline walk
A tightrope, a drop,
You are my other side,
The flat top
And a ladder
To the ground.
In the scraggy desert
All dust and crust,
You are my shade,
My soft brush,
And a burst
Of watermelon.
In the mad run
Dripping sweat, grating air
Falling behind–always behind,
You are my cool lair,
a still bed,
a good book.
In the long day
Burning back, straining lack,
Alongside peering strangers
Cruel masters, cackling thieves
You are
My isekai.
My other world,
The god that heard,
Where my ordinary becomes
Extraordinary.
My tries aren’t tries
But obtains and gains,
New heights and flights
Into peerless wonder!
You are
My hope,
My lover.
Author T.S. Lowe 