Mountains

I knew what you were doing all along when I saw you blowing smoke rings in the dark, and I knew you then, as I watched the way you flicked through the livestream of your noire hued dreams whilst looking for the love you lost but kept in your back pocket for a rainy day, and I knew you then just as I know you now.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, blissfully aware of the awe in which your presence triggers within the depths of me as you recall those soft spoken goodmornings, and the mud map we drew whilst traveling through one horse ghost towns whilst camping underneath the stars, and inhaling the scent of wildflowers as the ice melted on the mountains.

When Spring arrived, you gazed at me whilst I blushed for you because I knew you were craving to be released as you looked at me sideways and winked whilst sipping your coffee, and I danced as we laughed, recalling little things that remain latched upon the heart, like our initials etched into the concrete of the kerb in front of my neighbours house.

And we could've been discreet but we weren't, and that's not unusual for us as the elation is mutual when pondering such things, particularly when our paths cross for our love was just like that, built upon the beauty of elation & connectivity, that left a mark upon my heart.

I’m always climbing steep mountains, whilst waving like a lunatic when I get to the top of them, hoping all is well in your world as I carry you with me, during all those moments.