Perlman + Ascend

Ron Perlman is in the hotel and asking if he can draw us. Your chin is knuckled into my shoulder blade and I can feel the stretch of the entire afternoon of trying to find the lake. Your arm drapes over my other shoulder like a vine, lush with bloom but somehow still so slender. The lobby of the hotel is covered in a low fog of sound of clicking baggage wheels and room number mumbles. I hold your hand gently but in a way that you may be flung into the universe in a single movement. Your gaze is past me, the way you gaze past bullet proof glass at a ticket counter. Behind the high ceilings, you must know how close we are to the lake. Every thought you have is a thought besides standing here. Every thought you have I can feel filling the space across the back of my neck. I lean back into the stretch of my shoulder. The sound of waves is happening somewhere else, while Ron Perlman draws us standing in a hotel lobby.

△ △ △ △ △

We ascend. Which sounds enlightened. Which sounds like whenever we arrive to which we are ascending we will have learned some sort of knowledge about something undefined but in reality what we learned is we could climb climb climb. Maybe more so that the fear of the fall is less and less relevant to what we are hoping to achieve. Where we are ascending too isn’t totally clear. Suppose we will just know when we know that we’ve reached the top and if we do not then we keep climbing up and up and up.