Fissure

The line advances slowly
Jagged and artificial
As black as grim night
Unending pitch dark
She toes the line
Tiptoe thin, fragile
Spun like spiderwebs
Silken in their mean
And she dances lean
Poetic in her moves
Razor-thin and sharp
Careful not to fall
While the chasm deepens
Between warring emotions
Churning deep inside
The moment he left
Sudden and incomplete
Leaving her hollow
Like the advancing dark
As she lets herself fall
Eyes closed against it all
Swallowed in night.

Sam