Emeralds and diamonds, Affairs of State. We didn’t build our bridges simply to avoid walking on water. A bridge is a meeting place. Neutral, casual. A bridge is a possibility, a metaphor of chances. For the traffix in whispered goods, where else but a bridge in the night? A philosophical people, conversant with greed and desire, holding hands with the Devil and God. This living bridge is tempting, you may lose your soul or find it here.
*an erasure poem
An erasure poem after a page from Jeanette Winteron's The Queen of Spades.