We wandered through the woods and found a wallowing bridge, creaking softly in the symphony of the spineless sighs of wind.  Gushing through its planks I could feel the water seeping at the weak  cavity’s of the wood. I was there and she was there and we were on that bridge together, struggling on its loose and yielding bones. As we stepped on its ribs, the wood sighed beneath our feet and the water swelled and the wind sang and we held on. And the wind slipped through my clothes and hugged at my skin. And we walked in silence. I didn’t have to fill the atmosphere with empty words with no meaning. In the silence we Struggled across the softened wood.  So soft that our feet were but muffled padding underfoot. We were careless of the bridges unpromising  purpose, that its defeat and surrender could leave us swept away in the cold stream below.  We were just moving away from the forest. Moving together.