drunk of the euphoria of floating low
over the edge of a cliff im still holding
on to your hand; you are singing, descending.
crying a low note over the trees.
the horizon answers you with a whistle,
a shriek

i know we are both forgettable
morse code 
zeroes. ones.
but when we stand together
we are more than sound touch look,
we are taste. tasting each other
salty as we fall
drunk.