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Nov 2018
mouth gaping and open
beneath this once-trundled bridge
the southern crust met the northern
lips

connected by water in which
trouts dance and
ladders rot

we search for our reflections in the
dead of night
seeking a something
we cannot find on either side

wondering
who will swallow us whole,
the water or

ourselves
thought of this on the bus home over the big bridge tonight
elle
Written by
elle  22
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169
   Fawn and PoetryJournal
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