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.
The ash stained my sheets.
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?”
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.