A new one

It's UNcomfortable.

This new precipice from which

my feet are dangling.

There's a sea

of manowars down below

watching my every twitch

and squirgle.

What would happen were I

to fall from it?

Perhaps the manowars

would be naught but seaweed,

harmless,

though a bit tangly.

Perhaps I would be dashed

against the jagged rocks,

or slip into a sea cave

full of fabulous gems

and mermen.

But here I still sit, on the edge,

belly leaping into my chest,

heart expanding into my belly.

Naught to do but surrender.