Bridge

Two homeless people kiss on a bridge.

The world does not stop.

People pass over the waters

Fast paced escape from the weight of the sky.

Car horns and tyres

Pavement cracked faces

Another working day.

In the gap between thoroughfares, a gesture

That crumbles sculptures to chalk and a scrawl on the blackboard

Two sleeping bags smother classical paintings

Oils erased to mirror the washed out sky

Dulled frame to muted bodies.

Two figures, two houses, two lovers.

Lovers of street crossings and walk ways and gang planks.

Lovers in the almost rain.

We will cross that bridge when we come to it.

In the purgatory no mans land

Between water and concrete towers,

Pressed by wind and pushed past

Two sides of one coin tussling

Head over tails

Hees on heels

There is shelter to be found.

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