Jangle Bo'Dangle

If it's the precipice I fear, it's the depth of taking off. Which shutters my nerves into a single bounce, winding them down to a single ball. Until they explode, in a big bang of laughter... a series of stars for the short life after. A twinkling nod, placed upon the hemisphere, round in shape, and pleasant to the ear. With telescopes evenly drawn out in pairs, a whisker of proof, the heavens were always there. In front of our faces, and long-forgotten places, elastic in shape, surrounding all ages and races.