The expansive seam between the two drifting people
is tacked with haste together, a bridge
like scotch tape across a canyon,
time washes back and away,
never recorded, now-dissolving.
is tacked with haste together, a bridge
like scotch tape across a canyon,
time washes back and away,
never recorded, now-dissolving.
From here I see the other side, hear the flowing river but cannot cross to retrieve what is lost.
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