Slow And Sullied, Without Names

Digging my heels into the packed dirt and bowing my legs and feet to fit the eroded canoe shaped path, I spread my arms to maintain balance. Hiking to my secret mountain. You follow closely behind in my tan corduroy jacket that’s sleeves exceed past the tops of your hands to your softly curved knuckles. The cacti and sandstone begin to form as walls the higher we exhaustedly push further into the vertical footpaths. The still of winters sun soaked afternoon grows into a shadowy forceful wind atop the boulders round peaks. I glance back every few steps to make sure you don’t lose footing. As I bend my ears to hear you sweet and softly speak an array of winded soliloquies.  The breeze growing and rushing louder past my ears. We finally make our way to the top of this sacred spot and carve our slanted seats into the gravel. Taking comfort behind the main of the rock’s peaks. After catching my smoky breath I exhale and offer you a beer. You accept, though hesitantly nurse it for our entire conversation.  This would become the conversation that changed everything. The cityscape now starting to spring to light as the sun says hello to other mornings. Now on my second beer I stare into the horizon and back to the loose gravel we cautiously push our hands and feet into as a pseudo relaxed sitting stance. The discomfort of my muscles became out weighed by the serenading sound of your voice and contrasted scenery. Though it not the words I want to hear. It still remained musical.  Making a mutual agreement that I quickly realized I could not keep my end. As the dark flooded through the trees and red clouds we finished up with our words and beers. We began our decent, surfing down the pebble filled paths. I again checked on you every few steps. You slipped and slid for a few steps and I offered my arms to gain composure. The closest I’d come to holding your hand thus far. A simple chivalrous graze of fingertips and wrists and I knew I couldn’t fight the feelings that had been building like my secret mountain. Moving through and under shrubbery we finally end at the flat of land. Only A few moments left in this story to grasp. I begrudgingly forced my feet to follow the faint of grass that lead to the car. I wanted to keep you in this moment. I wanted to kiss you in this moment. We eventually made it to the road and into the car. The drive was dark and filled with more music. I will never forget this evening. You will forever be a part of my secret mountain.  You will forever be a place in my heart. You will forever be.

 

Joshua Tool – 12/12/12

 

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