Miss Ova Given's Bridge to Nowhere

Grommeted here, I am stretched across the four elements and the two horizons
A translucent whole with a thousand I-holes
Threaded with silk to the bergs below

You are the berg.
And you,
&
That.

Four times two is 10,000
A hoary cartographer's dream

No ordinary mapmaker, or course
Miss Ova Given was the perfect candidate

She found herself pulling the silks one by one
Until I draped across the bergs
Kissed the myth breaker on the cheek and re-remembered no distance between
I, Miss Ova Given,
you,
&
That.

The return path to this bridge to nowhere
Spans the relative and the absolute
Always dropping me - the ink and paper of the picture -
Square in the centerless circle I never left.