Viewless Hill

You couldn’t see anything
from that hill but still we made
our climb up its far side
to know it for ourselves.
Her with all the pictures
of the world tucked in her backpack
in a notebook that only she could see.
Then there was me with nothing,
but the smoke that I would exhale
through my nose.
Trees that became hills that became sky
and questions about how that turned to
arguments about why. My hand
on her back and hers on my thigh.
We didn’t leave until the moon
began sharpening its knife
on its knuckles that never would bleed.
She was my one and only need,
and we walked home together
that night unafraid of the dark.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s