They
decided to build
bridges of water between riverbeds
of old...
Suspended underneath
what used to be their dwelling...
With no pillars,
neither of fire,
nor of heartbroken tears'
vaporised hopes...
Invisible rotting piles of angel dreams,
delicately fragranced
with stolen, sweetened hummingbird kisses...
No ordinary fish would ever swim there;
only dying echoes of departing whale songs
of unreturned passions...

When all bridges shall encounter others,
they will harvest all shades of blue,
returning them
to this eye,
closed before it ever opened...