"You grabbed my hand and told me never to let go..."
You grabbed my hand and told me never to let go.
You said, “I love you” as the wind whispered
and the Spirit of the Mountain spoke.
“It is better to reach the peak alone than to fall with company.”
The voice’s message stuck with me like a tapeworm,
burrowing through my brain but not my heart.
Up the slopes we went, the winter wind scraping our faces like sandpaper.
Five miles up the mountain, night fell.
We took up camp in a small crevice.
The small fire we made highlighted her rosy cheeks,
illuminating her fair skin like a Nordic sunrise.
We held each other and I felt safe
until I felt her kiss, being as cold as Odin’s breath.
As she fell asleep in my arms, I felt weightless.
I thought I was starting to slip.
We were almost near the peak, cold, weak, and hungry.
Jesus Christ, we were hungry! The wind had been howling at us.
My love had grown paler with each change in wind speed.
I myself grew numb with each step.
I held her hand, but her grip loosened with time.
Her eyes grew ever empty as my heart grew heavier.
We reached the peak and she suddenly embraced me.
Her breath got heavier as her grip tightened.
The wind howled and she whispered, “This is as far as we go”.
She pushed me forward and I fell back over the edge.
She held me by the hand for a moment as I dangled from the mountain.
“It’s time I let you go”, she whispered
Plummeting into oblivion, I closed my eyes,
feeling the wind blowing away from the peak.
Hopes only go so high.