The Bridge of Hesitation

you never did cross it but still it remains a pair of spectacles submerged in the river on one side lies the pleasure district: neon and ribbons, arc-welded limbs the scintillation distractors on the other: some home or one light that was gutted then torn down extinguished by passionate hopes between them, one heartless bridge a fiction beneath expatriate memories the mind`s dim canals ... of course being fake you`ll make a wide circuit round it beating drums to scare mild geese before dawn can catch its breath but grim hesitation tracks you down makes your heart skip beats tripping over cracks in streets sorrows like snow on an iron horse.

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