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Tuesday, April 28, 2020

for the girl

I have watched you
carefully, and
I have seen you

work by force
every rail
every rope
every plank that built the bridge between us

hastily
    buried

I know why you did it
it was easier.
You were not allowed,
so you didn't.

This field is laced
with the unmarked graves of our memories.
There will be no monument
to who we were.
no bearers will sing
there will be no stone
                      upturned.

Every morning, the Messenger comes to remind me
you are gone.

Every morning, I tell him what I know:

I tell him about you.

I have crossed this ocean before,
anchor-tied,
tongue-cut and lifelines set ablaze,
near drowned, yet
Mercy helped me find you.

Our bridge is dismantled. Piles of rubble and dust where once stood
the delicate balance.

here am I,
open hands to the sky
open heart to the surgery of your   removal.


I told you recently, soul alight,
No one can steal your joy, dear, you have to let them

and the irony
is how you still thought it was possible
to steal mine.

I see these pieces and I raise you.

If you stay on that island
and watch those fires for a decade, eventually
the smoke will clear to show
 you, it was not I who moved.

Stunning and on-point photography by the incomparable Rosie Hardy.
www.rosiehardy.com
insta @georgiarosehardy

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