It was not my choice
to collapse, says
the bridge in pieces
on the west
bank. A strip
of purple light
strikes a pose
across her face. And
she wonders
how it feels to drop
guilt so easily
on vacant land.
It was not my choice
to collapse, says
the bridge in pieces
on the west
bank. A strip
of purple light
strikes a pose
across her face. And
she wonders
how it feels to drop
guilt so easily
on vacant land.
