- Vol. 05
- Chapter 04
Search Party of One
Border patrols search the Swiss Alps year round to find lost climbers, wayward souls, wandering spirits who climb without gear, and willingly fall down through the cloud cover into a vortex of open air, freezing in freedom.
It was the hat that gave me away, but I fudged my way through the barrage of their inane questioning, convincing them to turn away so I might continue my search for you.
My nose dives downward like the steepest of slopes. I am as pale as the snow, my lips painted red.
I know what you loved most about me, my acceptable level of crazy, my poncho as purple as my sombrero as if that kind of hat would serve me here.
It matters not that I am not in Mexico. It matters not that this is Switzerland, It matters not that it is snowing. It matters that I keep looking…
Surrounded by mountains, I search for you in the highest elevations,
Search Party of Onethrough slippery slopes and blizzard disguising paths at Dufourspitze, the Dom, and now in the blistering cold of the Matterhorn.
I’m not a climber or a hiker, I’m a lover, gliding across pristine virgin snow. I pitter-patter in my stocking feet. They must be frozen but I can’t feel it.
The only thing that matters is my hat, understand all else is vertical, thus the hat balances the horizontal, keeps it real. Who am I? Why have I come? Where am I going? All irrelevant.
My lover died somewhere, I don’t know where but I have chosen to look for him here. It is my aim to join him, if not beside his frozen carcass, then up on the slope that traverses the snow-covered gate where I hear his yearning spirit call to me.
I imagine the ice-covered tips of the mountains to be my pointy breasts, the shadowed valley dipping into undergrowth below my belly. I want you to not be polite, throw me down on my sombrero and take me, take all of me.
Search Party of One
The clouds crossing overhead tell me, as does the pink and yellow horizon. I can sense you are looking for me too. I welcome your ice cold caress, your frosty lips as dry as mine. My thoughts race ahead, rehearsing what I will say when I find you.