I felt the words drop from my teeth, 

tumbling into the yawning chasm

that that cracked open before my feet.

They crashed, swallowed by the

foaming, churning, swirling

white river that roared,

beating at the curved hollows

below your eyes.

I remained at its edge

and heard heavy footsteps behind me.

The dust was gritty in your mouth

when I felt your tongue behind my ear

and your cold fingers press onto my throat.

I squinted,

trying to find the words that 

had vanished below

violent waters,

wondering if they would resurface,

bobbing up like a neon life saver,

nodding their frantic approval.

They didn't,

and you began to push me.

I could feel the chasm edge crumbling

and I knew

that I would be swallowed too.