The Mountainside at Estis Park

1:48 AM Marcellino DAmbrosio 0 Comments

A wind blows across the cavernous expanse of my heart,
Singing like a wind pipe which pronounces to to echoing hills
A myriad of sweet and painful sounds.


A word was said, so soft upon
The snowy stillness, the silent crags in the evening air,
The crisp frigid cold of sunset comes upon us like sleep

But this peace could not hold the weight
The word tumbled from your lips,
An avalanche on the quiet mountainside;

I am crushed!
I am thrown to your arms in heaps,
Covered up, enveloped in your "yes."

It was an avalanche,
But its catalyst was not born this this sweet disastrous day,
It began long before and has since been pouring down
With a slow and total force.

The lighting bolt that no one noticed but us
It struck as my thigh grazed yours
We sat together
A storm of unparralleled electrical force
Hidden only beneath a blanket and the thin masks
We carried on our faces
You could have stopped it then.

You could have ripped your skin from its closeness,
gathering the pieces of your heart before they crumpled,
Taking the rest with it.

But you let it fall, and fall it did,
Tumbling, turning, exploding, hurling us
Headlong into this beautiful tumolt
Shooting shards of Ice into the grey with deafening cracks
Towers, columns of snow slung to the heavens,
only to float down as so much debris.
We are churned together.
What was once has been leveled,
Burst and burried under the new.

Only a single solitary shackle,
Lifting its cold iron grin from a mound of snow,
Is all that remains of the bygone cell
But soon a gust of mountain wind will carry
Its cold forgetful load and deposit it upon the waste
and all must be, will be white.

For the avalanch would have its way,
Who are we to stay its power, contain its magnificent weight?
No. I could not withstand such a cataclysm.
Neither could you.

I love you, she said, and more, so much more.

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