We Crossed a Bridge and it Trembled

By Olubunmi Oni

I held your hand and walked through fog
singing the song you taught me
talking to you all the way through

and when we arrived at the end I did not see you
your sunken form lay beneath the abyss
and between the two versions of me
I am the one who chose joy

I do not know if the other girl was better
if we were ever evenly matched
I was softer and cried during our walk across
she remained silent, her hand in mine stoic and strong
I do not know if one of us was the final copy

what I do know is that she no longer walks beside me
though her lullabies still swing through the night wind
and her footsteps comfort me now and again
she is no longer here, and her presence grows weaker

I held your hand as long as I could, your grip iron and stagnant
your songs kept me awake, kept my throat raw and tender
I am not sure if I am the better half, but I am the one who remains

Olubunmi is a woman in STEM who fell in love with the body in more ways than one. Focusing on embodied experiences, she attempts to pin words to sensations and situations that follow her as a black woman with tongue-in-cheek humor, biting wit, and emphatic volume. You can follow her on Instagram @poeuhms