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Full-margin rupture

On the bus I dream
of the Big One; I wonder,
are these the last people I’ll ever see?
(looking at their phones eyes
glassy as the water)

--the bridge under us hums
musically. Our feet are headphones. We
are alone
and together. Floating like a bubble.
Skimming the pond.

Full-margin rupture

On the bus I dream
of the Big One; I wonder,
are these the last people I’ll ever see?
(looking at their phones eyes
glassy as the water)

--the bridge under us hums
musically. Our feet are headphones. We
are alone
and together. Floating like a bubble.
Skimming the pond.

Natalie Pond  24, Seattle

 
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