Frozen Waterfall

There’s a ribbon of souls
ascending the frozen waterfall
Colors like the edge of a jagged cut
Glass or ice triangular against the light
Their eyes are just like yours and mine:
deep tunnels with no end
The throbbing swell of city breath
sweeps up behind us
Strong enough to push,
not strong enough to hold us
so we hold on
Gravity bent forward up these static stairs
out of the winding tunnels to
the prism space and taste what’s left
of day: warmer than we require but cool
enough to keep us
among the molecules and dust, awake
as sunlight’s cosine slide tips
forward into shadow

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