the flame danced on its axis. we sold our doubts to the highest bidder. the truth like quicksand.
i wandered. full of souring distances and sobering miles.
the bridge churned against the storm, but i managed to cross it.
i didn't want. i couldn't ask. but i needed. that final stroke.
the hardened lines. the irrevocable consent. to abandon all hope.
all those glorious summers dissolving.
like tissue paper.
into the flood that is tomorrow.