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The bridge built in between us

Did not burn down in the fire

And even long after,

I kept cinders under my pillow as mementos.

Time passed

The ash stained my sheets.

Time passed

I returned to the bridge

To see the scorch marks,

Took pity and crossed again.

You were waiting for me

Criss-cross-applesauce on the other side.

“Care for a cup of coffee?”

I did

For the coffee, and for you.

There was no cream and only Splenda, but I pretended not to mind.

You were there, after all.

When I returned home that night

I saw you

Attempting to burn the bridge yourself,

But the wood would not take to the flame.

Your soot soaked body wept upon each flare before they had time to grow.

It is a blessing and a curse.

A repeated cycle of attempted fires.

We are killing the ozone layer, darling.

Let our story be a warning;

Tend to your burning bridges

Till all that’s left is ash.

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