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The Bridge

I want to be held and find God
to feel summer’s last breath on my cheek
not knowing whether its sweet wetness is
the first drop of autumn or my next heartbreak


I imagine my future outlined in the fog
over the bridge’s crest, my future lovers:
peace, after-breath, center, and freedom
waiting with their eyes closed


If I can be unburdened, uncurl my fingers
unhook the curve of my shoulders, unlock my rigid jaw
open my mouth to speak then sing then sob
hands releasing, receiving, imparting


Then rip the worn fabric of this self
unravel the knots, untangle my grievances
weave intricate patterns of myself
just a single strand frayed into every strand


Until next morning’s moonless sky
the rain, bursting wind, falling lights
my heart’s crushed pieces blown away
all blue mist, soft earth, the edge


I stand bare and chilled
crusted, broken skin on the ground
my enduring, youthful body and her senses
carrying me to the new land


Where I am held and free
I am God, and her lover
I am radiance. I am
with my eyes closed


Winna Pham is a Vietnamese-American who just recently graduated from dental school in San Francisco. Keep up with her at @WinnaWrites on twitter. 

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