big sur.

shroud
and all the clay souls
were with us that day
we decieded
on a small whim
to make the magical drive to Big Sur
i wanted to see the blue
and you wanted to show me too
because i had never been

sweater in hand
the cd's (John Frusciante and Tycho)
i was obsessed with that one record
during that time
my heart had been broken
and it seemed so romantic to listen to John's wails
getting lost somewhere in that wind

we drove and hardly stopped
took no caution
and you guided
i had to switch seats because you knew the mountains

and when we finally did stop
all i remember
as i stepped out,
was almost falling to my knees
the sight was so beautiful
nothing had ever made me cry before
purely from sight
but this blue,
this blue had never touched me before
i was it
and it was i
and i stood there,
arms wrapped around nothing
in tears
humbled by this existence
mourning already that i would have to leave it.

we stared off into the cliff
silence
was the purest song
we could ever learn to sing that day
that day
that day was our hymn
we were religious
that night
as we dove into
each other's skin

i read you like the final pages
of any scripture
i could understand