a bridge without love

a bridge without love 
is like a stone 
   in the middle 
       of a stream
   we crossed 
       in the middle 
           of a dream
which we forget 
   when we wake up
because 
of that bridge 
   we crossed 
we have no place
no name
no memory
 
the bridge, without love
does not question
does not resolve
loses reason
loses all emotions
it is still a bridge, but
it gets absorbed by that emptiness
it was meant to reduce
it lies asleep
in its own oblivion 
from which cannot wake up