I loved you once,
Although I never had you.
I suppose that's why I wanted you.
As I fly over the Rockies, I can't help but wonder what mountain you and your board caressed.
I saw you there last week in photos.
I know your love for flying with the snow.
As I look down over the land the topography brings me back to our conversation,
You know the one we had in the aisle of best buy in front of the speakers.
I was on my hands and knees and you were looking down at me.
Oh how your gaze would melt my heart.
Those eyes that seethed into my soul with understanding and mutual oldness.
I told you about the topography of the land and its similarity to the structure in our own bodies.
The rivers are our veins, the water our blood.
We find these veins in leaves, in intricate patterns in the mountains, in sediment run off and in lightening.
I tried to make you see what I see,
That we are not separate from nature, but in fact we are nature in a complex and beautiful form.
Intelligent and loving.
I thought I could make you happy,
But you didn't agree.
I'm still so sorry that you never had me.

      L.Cole