etaphors yearn for bridges beyond themselves… Such tragic momentum encounters beauty along the way, just as ghost-towns are flush with inhab… that haunts every sentence, like an arthritic hand reaching for horizons tomorrow will never bring. Language is quantum, as if many-worlds found themselves wanting and sought each other to find what’s missing. Metaphors yearn for bridges beyond themselves… Such tragic momentum encounters beauty along the way, just as ghost-towns are flush with inhabitant…