Hanging on for dear life bound in lycra,
Struggling to get up to the edge of the face with limits that only climbers will know,
I hang back as I try to get near to the brink of the underside hanging,
I push with my feet and stretch out for life to get grips,
To have hand holds and smear and scrape,
My feet to the bare face of rocks below,
To understand how my body can,
Function in all this time without,
Knowing a genetic limit like this,
The cliff-face is how we should live,
Deep on the edge of the world,
On the heart of the fringe.
Tied to nothing.

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