because you see, this is how it
goes: the cup-yellow of sun against your
face and the slow slow slow
breaking of the day, like falling,
but not quite.
you have to know that
nothing here ever bleeds, that
breathing here is a tightrope, taut
and tight and too firm to shatter
this silence. feel the wind against your
cheeks: know that this is alpine breath,
aeons-old. you are surrounded by the
atoms of dinosaurs. the bones of stars. because
you see, darling, you are
small here.
Advertisements
