Contours


Photo by Eberhard Grossgasteiger from Pexels.com




I gently trace my fingers along the edges of where the mountain meets the tall baby blue above My arms wave softly in the air as I follow the ridge like a maestro

speaking language with a soundless caress I’m learning the mountains’ language reading the jagged rough like braille I know you with my eyes closed in the darkness to which I imagine there - how I can smooth your edges


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