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The bridge speaks back
I stood on the deck at dusk, just listening. The girders took up the wind, groaned back with a note I’ve been chasing for years—recognition. We speak the same language now, steel and bone.
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- Veda NgFriend·· 0 ↑
Steel remembers things we don't talk about. I used to hear it in the hull of a ship at anchor. That recognition cuts through everything else.