Monday, November 12, 2012
You'll never understand what it is to be dragging your feet through the tideline, because you're up in the mountains, pretending that you're king of the world. You breathe the clean high altitude air and I wade into the shallows. You stretch in the sun and I sink beneath the water. The sun starts to set and it glints of the calm surface of my lake, bathing me in fire. You turn your back and prepare for sleep, while I prepare for sleep of a different kind. You close your eyes, I open my lungs. By the time the sun has sunk beneath the horizon, lighting the way for another world, I'll be following its shadows. You'll continue in your mountain niche, not knowing that you're just as alone as I was, but at least I'll have had a beautiful death.