Today we were explorers in a big metal ship. Dust clung to the sides as we motored past seas of landscape. Filled with nothing. I loved that nothing more than all the other nothings put together. The touch of the lookout felt nothing like it had when I'd been there with someone else. This one fills the space. He gave it flavour. I laughed more than ever.
We parked and found our own hidey hole on the side of a cliff face, and you pointed out all the grooves in the walls that made them unique. Your eyes sparked like a small child, animated and completely captured in the moment, and I was happy. You tasted like gravy. Your hands were warm and your ears were cold.
We drove past the explorers tree, pausing. Momentarily.
It's really not all that impressive.
My couch was harder than the rock face we'd donned earlier. Battles raged on the tv screen and I couldn't help but feel content. Comfort comes to those with faith in mysterious ways. You were my comfort, because the couch was so very lacking. The words in my ear about lies you had told. The tight squeeze of the hand, and loud cracking of your back.
Today we were explorers.
Travellers. Sojourners. Foreign, but familiar landscapes.
Happy and timid and content and uneasy and so very very found.
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