Span In The Bridge

Outside of the usual cycle,/the beard suddenly shifts in the mirror./Our names scrawled together in wet concrete/ like a tree carved with hearts. Two horses, Jasper and Conrad, break from the path of the spectacle,/bolt through the forest to belay us. When I ran from them, I rand hard as I could,/fast as I can,/turns out it’s for nothing./Mountains of trash lit up at night, some swirling/The dump lies before the caverns: there are bats. My head tilts slightly/ when hear a rumor of grace:/it attacks what promotes me. Daydreams, waft through forests of logic

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