Your hands are steady, it’s the bridge that’s shaking.
A step to hypothermia, two to incoming traffic.
It’s already late and the landscape’s breath-taking -
Monochrome, through the lens of your photographic
Memory. Deconstructing pain to its pixel details -
A grain of salt that stretches and clings to your chin…
The incoming headlights blind you, and then unveil
A little more of the scar, a little less of the skin -
A fine balance. You could have been on a tight-rope,
A speck between towers, with the sky to traverse.
An impossible act, if not for the slight hope
That, in the desperate moment, luck was still yours
For the taking. For some, there’s solace in rain,
As it drowns the murmuring, splintering heart,
But you’re taking it in, for if it wasn’t for pain,
What would bring tears, where would love start?