Come out into the open where
We all are: at the center of a bridge
Whose dark river draws all light
And the nearest weeds to itself
Here to search out love—
Discarded hearts at the city’s edge—
Where fish follow their fathers’ routes
And we cannot lift up to thread the constellations
If you meet me here
I will make you a myth: you will show
As cold points between the clouds
If you meet me here your light
Will hold the eyes of descendants
Unable to find a crossing over the dark river