As I look up
At the creases and lines so clearly marked
In what is betrothed weathering stone
Set in sand and creased with erosion
I seek to climb up
But the cracks aren't quite big enough to support my dirt caked nails
I wonder how many people have climbed here before
Caressed this face
Or dug into it looking for answers
Of why dead people don't come back once they are
Completely
Out of liquor
How many expressions the rock has been forced into Communicable microexpression being so different now,
In an instant
The understanding of concern in other's eyes shows
In its twinkle of electric invasion.
I wonder
How much light seeps through,
Or if the experiences are so densely packed
It's left the rock ignorant to the changing time.
But I am not at a canyon.
And I am not in a valley.
I am staring back at my own solid heart
And I'm standing on the edge of a steep cliff with
Barely enough room for the soles of my shoes
How easy it would be
Just to "try and climb up" and "slip"
How easy it would be
To make it look
"Accidental"
©kelli.tj3
K