Nothing casual about casualties

I disrupt us. The foundation.

The ground sloughs off the face of the planet in fragments, powdering between our toes. The river of time, once rushing, pours like honey in the chill.

The landscape of our love is in upheaval. Physics stretches, warps. We float as the terrain crumbles, untethered. I wonder what will happen if we float so high, we hit the edge of ozone. Does everything dissolve? Do we survive the lift in to outerspace? 

Our fingers out of reach, you're screaming for me, like I did on the river. Your twisted expression, fearful, angry, it hurts my heart. But I can't hear the words. The volume knob of our world stuck to mute. 

Gravity defied, I'm high above it, the carcass. Now the question is, does the carcass nourish an evolved iteration? Better than the last, stronger than ever? Hand in hand? 

Or does it break, branch off in another genus?

I love you. I don't know how to solve the disconnect. My eyes rain to the destruction below. I have never wanted to communicate with you so badly - and not at all. The opposing instincts battle. I can hardly stand it. There's nothing casual about the casualties that mount. 

What next, heart? What next?

The only response is a wordless song, slow, heavy with sad and wonder.