Salt and snow

Summer, 1990.  

Gold sets a river in North Carolina afire.

Writhing joyously in the flame,

a thousand ephemeral vapors transcend

rising rising

whispy tendrils reach, embrace, and dissipate.

But I, I found my way to the heavens

And that which is me

crystallized around my core

tenuously blossoming until

diamond bifurcations burst

into stunning symmetry.

I surrendered to the seraphim stratosphere

and reveled in gravity’s caress.

Falling is flying when you’ve never touched ground.

So it was clearly fate

when I suddenly stopped

and you were there.

Crystalline and kindred

rough and resplendent

you, you melted me.

I taste salt.


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