This bridge we cross has carried many.
Some stood for photographs to be framed,
others declared love with a name-etched
padlock locked to the railings, the key tossed.

How we’ve slipped by these meetings, these vows,
and simply drifted downstream, leaving the smallest
ripples in the water to smooth and fade when we’re gone,
knowing it was only ever us.

4 thoughts on “Downstream

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