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Crossing The River

22 April, 2013



Each time I cross the river

Whenever I walk across the bridge

Lowering my head into the wind

Tightening my coat against the cold blast

I imagine that I lift my phone high

And throw it

As far as I can

And watch it disappear

Into the water below.

My emotional motivation differs

With my moods

It is sometimes

A fantasy

A release

A hope

A dare

A fear

A threat

A comfort

A curiosity

It is a habit

But it never happens.


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