this is
my last blue view
tritely projected
across salt crystals and vapid skies.
up on the ravines
smiling outwards,
into that mirror that stretched for miles
and curved but never really ended.
towards your hate object.
i used to love it,
and then I learned to hate it too –
paralyzed by the cold winds
they entailed
and by the dark
under which it rested.

and how our boyish looks
swept away with it
towards what is still rightly ours.