1178 4 1
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We cannot love the past...
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feet soft as eyelids on the tarmac
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A bridge not satisfied with just crossing the river - It slashed through the sky, crashed through nature - Creating a new nature, a double-decker
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For the briefest moment, she was part of the sky. She hung there. Frozen. Suspended. Arms outstretched. She thought maybe she could take off flying, if she strained against gravity hard enough. She would soar into the pale blue until she reached the clouds. They …
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the first
one snapped in two; I felt the electric juice shoot
from exposed root to infected
throat, a pretty good clue
already about the body,
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my exposed
flu-ridden head
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