Photograph

Remember when we sat
On the edge of the bridge
Our feet dangling
Casting shadows on the water below
People say it was a dark time
But we never felt so alive
It was as if everything was framed
Caught in the corners
Of a photograph
One carefully folded in our pocket
Tenderly treasured and touched
An idol
Our own religion
A momentary epiphany
We set light to the papers
The bones in our fingers
Working on their own
We sculpted the cinders in our hands
Climbed up to the roof
Danced and sang
Took our clothes off
To let people see
She giggles
It really was magical
A time of grace
I am glad we lived it
Glad that we survived.