up a mountain, in the outskirts of Los Angeles
he drives like a maniac in his own vehicle
but when he drives my car,
it is slow and steady–a turtle
we stop for fuel in the form of beer, trail mix and water–
we’re unsure–
swept by fears and love and fears
old demons, ghosts, insecurities
whatever name we give our doubts
if they can even be called doubts
small talk and uncomfortable yet comfortable silences–
the occasional joke, intertwined with the beauty that only nature can provide
sprawled, gorgeous, immense, silent–
dangerous
the climb begins to take its toll on my empty stomach
my ankles
my lungs–gasping
I am weak
he is strong, able, beautiful
everything I am not
I worry that this climb will show him my frailties
that I’ll crumble at his feet, that he’ll leave me there
to be swallowed by the grit
food for hungry vultures
but he waits…
smiling at the waning hills
bright yellow, red and purple flowers leap around him, dancing with his shadow
he is a million mirrors
reflecting back my pains and joys
my pains manifest
but my will to reach our destination is greater–
there is no shade, but a cool breeze caresses me–us
I miss his arms, his hands on me
I attempt affection, he accepts–begrudgingly
his dry mouth lands on mine and disappears just as fast
thirst comes and we drink heavy with conviction–
“we’re almost there.” he says
“I’m ok.” I whisper, inaudibly
this isn’t going to be easy
this union is a test
a test of death and life
a test of patience and forgiveness, of trust
of things yet to be tapped into
the sound of water distracts our rumbling guts
we are hungry, but first, we must reach comfort, greenery, quiet solitude and a place to sit
wet soil and strange noises fill the space between him & I
we jump over heavy rocks
slip between cracks and the silence is beautiful
like stars, and sky, and snow
or what I imagine snow to sound like
since snow is as foreign to me
as he is in this moment
but all things that stick around eventually seep in our foundation
we slip our feet into a stream of freezing cold water
we force ourselves to endure it, because we know that the payoff to most things, comes with time
we know that nothing can be forced upon us unless we give it permission
ants want his attention
more than I could ever show–
they crawl on him
the way he often climbs on me
pain turned into pure passion
he lets them have their fill
they indulge
we ask questions of each other that perhaps we always knew the answer to
they seem safe grounds to walk on
safer than the wet rocks beneath our feet
we laugh
take pictures
sit closer
drink heavy
drink loudly
the sun creeps back
retrieving
hours have passed since we began this climb
we feel a bite in the air
the slow and steady descent
high voltage in the heart
we take time now to look at one another
pick flowers
hug–
we stare dumbfounded
at the vastness mixed w/metropolis
his smile is sweeter/my laugh echoes
we repurpose our limbs
wrap our hands around each other
bellies full of food and drink, of love, of fear
I grip him knowing this doubt is melting
the sun is setting
we drive to our den
our sanctuary
the 110 freeway carries us at 80 miles per hour
a torrent of metal and lights
“home is where we are.” you say
I say, “where we are, is home.”
