S. B. Borgersen
The Erasure of Delphine’s Bridge
The bluesman sings Delphine into the dark. Watching nothing. Rolling tongue around the lyrics. His eyes, slo-mo, as the harmonica weeps its way in with the bridge—asking questions—where she has been and why don’t she love him no more? He sees her then red-haloed lit, under his eyelids. Ain’t had no lovin’, he nasal-sings. Why dontcha come back to me?…
Distinguished Writer of the ArtAscent Abstract call for entry. To see the full body of work, grab a copy of the ArtAscent Art & Literature Journal Abstract issue.
