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x. bridge ten minutes after we left the subway, the bridge between us is still shaking under saturday night rain. we�re not walking into the caf� with our friends seeing us like this. two pairs of legs, already use to being intertwined, turn, stand front to front. my innocent comment almost made her think her childhood friend, a divider, was right about her becoming a social worker (read: advocacy facilitator) for black children and families. the most important people in life question her calling / don�t believe she knows herself. they�ve never seen a rainbow. they�ve never seen a rainbow block a tornado from crossing a field. so we cry (intertwine) under one umbrella. letting go of our bridge. as if God gave, us, wings. |