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Tuesday, June 03, 2025

Bay Bridge Therapy



Bay Bridge Therapy

therapy
is not a couch

it is steel span
and setting sun

the long inhale of the car
the hum beneath your feet
as the water flashes gold
then violet

and blood orange spills
from the speakers—
not the fruit,
but the kind that
wraps longing in synth and
lets it hover

your hands on the wheel
steady
but your chest—
light enough to float

city behind you,
or maybe ahead
who cares

the moment stretches
like the bridge itself
long and suspended
between
what you escaped
and what you haven't named yet

this is where the ache
becomes
air

this is where
you remember
you have a body
and it’s moving
forward

this is
what it feels like
to almost
feel okay.

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