The bridge glows the color of bone
Under its hundred lights,
Now between those rows of blank
A car drives on.
It holds five who are full bellies,
Their gloves smear clearnessess on the windows
And wave away the dark that shows through,
Their words are about love and have nothing to do with
this cold night that might be space.
But the bridge goes on so far the words die out
And the five are left at a brink,
At least one of them thinks even the air between them
are too rare,
Then the far bank comes alive with a building of stars,