water under the bridge

i went to sit on the rocks 
beneath the overpass 
where the perkiomen trails touches
the river bank. took off my flip flops 
to step between them barefoot--
grey mud on my toes. i was thinking
of all the times we'd been there--
me & you & you. the august afternoons
freshman year when we clapped gnats
out of the air. the boys who 
threatened to drown me. last time
i asked if you wanted to dip your
feet in the water & you said "no"
which was terribly disappointing. 
i only like boys who wade in rivers
& girls who catch crayfish in their teeth.
that was me. i found old dresses between
the rocks & over head the sound of
cars driving over the bridge echoes 
against the water-- a wail-- a yowl.
the asphalt is your fault-- the kind
of heat in heaven. underneath 
the bridge it's cool. pulled the
altar out from the trunk of my volvo:
took matches from my pocket & lit one candle 
for all of us. a runner's feet 
crunched across the gravel trail behind me.
is there no where to be alone?
yes we will find one-- someday. it rained
too much & the water was wild & brown.
i put my feet in, but mostly just to prove
to you how lovely it would have been.
i pray by the candle that there's
no river monsters today-- seeing 
rows of teeth blinking just out 
of sight. i pray that if the river
eats me that it will at least me quick
about it-- that it will remember us.
a little ways down we start to congregate--
the memories coming down to the river
to baptize themselves for good-- wading in.
i don't try to stop them but i watch as 
all my different bodies submerge. 
i'm moving to another state in 10 days.
i won't need those anymore-- the bodies
i mean. with their skirts & floral dresses.
kissing a stone, mud on my mouth
i snuff out the candle with my thumb.
a 16 wheeler howls overhead. i ask
god to keep the bridge steady-- just
a moment longer & if it were to crush me,
to make me a crayfish in her teeth.