At The Edge of the World

there's a strange comfort
waking up on
the edge of the world
moments before the sun
begins to drag itself
into the star-dusted sky
when everything is still
and the morning is fragile
like the corners of your mind
your heart is calm
in the cradle of your chest
wrapped in a cage of bone
you dare not breathe too loud
in fear of disturbing
the fragment of life you've
discovered
at the edge of the world
moments before the sun
dies behind the blackened horizon
and the sky is stained
with its blood
an offering to the night
i can feel you in
every shadow
taste you in the darkness
we'll feed off the moon
and when the mornings comes
perhaps we'll die too