Misty white sprinkles
dance and twirl their way down
on the old, abandoned bridge.
The skies are faded and gray
and the ground wet and umber.
Vibrant lights brighten the dreariness

and fills warmth to the blistering cold.

Christmas enlivens the dead misery

that sometimes embarks on our world.

The boy smiled
The girl flinches
As if the smile would disappear
She crossed
Fearing the bridge would collapse
She hesitated

...Took a breathe

Then looked again...

He disappeared
She lingered

The island writes
To the shore,
Don't build a bridge...
I want to be a stranger
To the world's end.

It's been said that sleep is for the weak.
I disagree.
Sleep is for those who have time.
I'm far too busy
Forcing myself to swim upstream,
Trying to fix people
That don't even know
Whats wrong.

There is not enough cement to build the bridge.
Let it fall.
Go to bed.

I cross the same bridge everyday,
There are always the same people,
With their different purposes,
Or is it the same?

Today I saw God begging for a coin,
On the bridge.
Nobody looked at him,
I guess they were mad,
So was I.

I came to God and slapped his face,
He understood and didn't fight back,
I hit him for everything,
Like an ant that escapes from the farm,
After several minutes I remembered that I don't believe in God,
Not this guy with a beard anyway,
So I stopped and continued my way.

I returned for a last punch in the face,
Just in case.
This reminded me of my first fight with Tyler.

Dear Golden Gate Bridge,

    Can you give her back to me?
Split the water in two and I will be Moises
Angry and scared,
desperate and delusional
like Dolly was about Jolene

She fell in love with your edges and your deceiving depths
And you never saw right through her and thought that maybe she just wanted you to be the sloppy second for once. Rebound to a better life.

                                         Splash!

You are a ruthless lover but I'm starting to understand the fascination with that edge of yours.

                                          Breathe in. Breathe out.

Jolene, I need to be baptized in your love
And I will assure you that I can swim and you will pretend to care.

Moises will fly to a sure fall. Let him drown. He would have never made it to Noa's arc anyways.

Let me drown.

Do not expect a linear path
Nor a strictly circular one
Though you meander one foot to the next
In cyclical, somewhat predictable rhythms.
Do not expect clouds to behave,
Mountains to hold,
Or branches to grow.
Do not expect bridges to stand the test
of time that even trees cannot.
Do not expect your golden shot today
to hold your interest next go round the wheel.
Do not expect a clear and simple reward.
Rather, take what you can,
Whenever you can,
Drink it in,
Make it a part of you
For the next go round.