Its really more pleasant than
someone else might think
four days in the mountains
packing sleeping under the stars and evenings cooking small
meals over small wood
fires
the tender licks of flame its caress
red coals doing their damnedest to retain the forms they had grown into
and were for
uncounted years
likely longer than he or any of
their party had lived added together
and home now
driving
four or five hours with windows open not
wanting to smell himself
not the good strenuous hiking
in the shower now
the
hot spray slowly beginning cut the grime and efface his stink
the
smoke of the wood fires back in his nose
becoming
fainter and fainter
his memory retracing his steps
his
eyes with memories of their own shuttling quicker and quickeranquicker
and at his feet
the
earth he wore running in rivulets to the drain pocked by waterdrops off his
long hair
his shins streaked
Fuck he groaned fuck because itd be a long while again before he have that
unmitigated
sense of godness
before that something inside his chest would swell again
threatening
to explode
and
he not giving a goddamn if it did
for then things could crawl over him with
the same
abandon he did over the mountains
on its rock slides and dank forests glens and through its fast creeks
home he was twisting a hot springs over onto its
head
and luxuriating beneath it
a sylvan washing his back with
a rag or sponge would have been real nice
more pleasant than anyone else
would think
2308, Sunday,
19 10. 14
