Mountain

I see you across the room and I have to know what your voice sounds like. I have to know what your touch feels like. I have to walk up to you and introduce myself but I didn't know that walk would be a climb up a mountain to introduce myself to the sun, to hear the voice of the sky, to feel the touch of the very wind that blows across this land and the land of god, and the land of my home.
I walk up to you but before I pervert the beautiful mystery of your silence I catch your scent. And you smell like honey, and pine trees, and saltwater, and eggs and bacon cooking on a Sunday morning curled up on the couch next to me under a blanket with coffee in your hand, you smell like a Wednesday night after work when we're both tired from being responsible adults and we can just let go to each other and you smell like fire. You smell like the fire that's burning inside of me as I approach this mountain to introduce myself and I say hello.
And then I hear the music that my heart has been missing but it didn't know it was missing until you spoke. And I wish I could rewind that moment to a time when I hadn't yet heard your voice because the mystery was pure and perfect and the excitement of climbing the mountain was the only purpose I had, and if I didn't have that excitement it would be over.
But even if I could rewind I would climb this mountain every time because I would know that at the top is something worth rewinding for and I would rewind and climb again and again and again and I'd forever be in this loop of endless excitement but I can't rewind, so I stick out my hand. And when you take it I feel my soul taken with it and I can't let go, I'm too vulnerable. You have taken my breath and even if I wanted to I am helpless to stop you, but I don't want to.
It is then I realize a man has five senses, and you've stolen four  of mine. I have to kiss you. I have to taste you, taste your lips against mine, feel your breath against mine. I have to taste your soul because without mine the taste is lost to me and I am lost to you but I can't kiss you. Because I realize that kissing you would be reaching the top of the mountain, the top where excitement and anticipation climax into an ecstasy of pure feeling and that I would know you and you would know me through these most basic of human senses. And I realize that the only thing left would be to go back down, and find a new mountain.

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