The Suicide - a love poem

You took my hand,
ignored its trembling,
covered it with your own
resolution.

You looked into my eyes,
disregarded their lack of focus,
held them in your own
calm.

I allowed you,
to take me,
lead me through the treacherous channel
and up the cliff.

You caught me
when I stumbled over
pebbles and boulders;
you covered me
when the tempest
promised to flay my feverish skin.

Eventually we stood,
side by side,
on the edge of the cliff.
The updraft threatened to topple us,
but you enfolded my throbbing chest,
used your legs to root my own.
You permitted me to mould my body to yours.

When we jumped,
I did not need
to be pushed.