‘This Mountain’s Mine.’

Burning lungs and cinnamon throat:
he pushes up stones and rocks
and to the top he clambers – high
above the sea and she. He gasps,
the wind dries his salted face,
blows away her venomous words,
her distaste. But now, he’s free.

He fills his lungs with mountain air
and digs his feet into the gravel peak.
He roots into earth and feels
the rock hum, the earth pulse.

He opens his mouth to speak
and feels the weight lift,
stretches his arms out wide.

‘If nothing else, this mountain’s mine.’