The Bridge

When I felt time slow down,

the frigid air seeped into my skin

and iced me from the outside in;

at Their touch I began to burn.

I could hear the timid laughter of the river;

as it lapped against the banks I felt a shiver,

that writhed from Their fingertips up through my spine.

The blurred yellow of the streetlamp made us gold

and as my nose touched Theirs, They said it felt cold.

Spiced little clouds billowed from our breath into the night.

In this moment time slowed down,

and suddenly I knew everything I had been trying to hide;

the parts of me I had sealed in a bottle and thrown out to the tide,

never needed to be kept inside.

As we stood entwined on the bridge,

between the world I knew and the world that could be,

I knew I could sink into the milky blackness

and would emerge the as the Woman I dreamt to see.