You are my mountain
I climb you without a rope
without a hook
and no return ticket.
My boots were blunted
and every sharp rock
hurts all the nerve endings,
the helmet was lost somewhere in a foggy day,
just keeps me warm my tress
increasingly wind burnt,
increasingly longer,
I have just some star dust
that I sprinkle it in my hands in the morning
when the sun strongly warms us
then, just me I get a human face again,
you are much colder as I am climbing
I sleep squat all the nights,
under the blanket of the dark sky
in the morning I let you the little trace of my body
that melted your ancestral snows -
do not rush to delete them
here could rise until the sunset
some delicate wire grass
that will argue for the love story of a girl
to the highest mountain in the world.
No,I do not wear spikes
because it would hurt me to stick them
in your body wrapped in stone.
My ascent is a continuous amount of endearments
of the pure geometry of your ridges
and en
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