Love Story (second draft)

Stephen
the flint,
a handsome
but somewhat common
sedimentary rock,
could not believe his eyes
when first he saw Sondra,
the girlfriend-shaped
parachute.

God, he said,
and I do mean that,
I love you.

A thermal took them
and they soared,
pendulum and silk,
rocking back and forth
until they landed
with a thump
and a sigh.

Sondra billowed a bit,

and they at once sought a cliff
who could marry them. 

Dearly beloved,
said the cliff.
Gimme a reason,
I dare you, said
the couple in unison,
making
that most formal of vows.

They kissed a lot
and fell over the edge
and they either made it down safely
or they didn’t.   That’s the end
of that story.

That cliff is still there, though,
waiting for a breeze
to bring in the business.
Never has to advertise. 
The oddest shapes
always seem to find each other
and come wanting to take that fall,
hoping
this time
for one soft landing.