I will never ask you to step out of the sliding door of an airplane,
to free-fall through the clouds
with only an altimeter and your faith in the parachute’s packing
to guide you back down to earth,
for you to tumble the miles of ozone and sky
as proof that you are brave enough to love me as much as you love
the solidity of the dirt beneath your boots.
I will only ask that you are brave enough to jump