Once I hiked partway up a glacier        on the other side of a dust
storm               just north of Vik          far off
I could see the sandy fields & the shaggy horses
that roamed them        could see the seams of their breath lifting
little signals into the weep of it all        I was someone else
back then         someone maybe not even lonely          Back then
I stood for a long time             before the waterfall that broadcast
its white in a rush of lace                     The tourgroup was full
of complaints               around the next scheduled departure
At the Blue Lagoon                 I watched strangers
at a bachelorette party take shots         of vodka from tiny plastic cups
& toast the bride-to-be in her white bikini
Just like anywhere        or the moon
& back then                 I was full of my own brand of laziness &
shorthand desire          to get close to something         life-changing &
majestic without working very hard for it           Everywhere
I looked something was coming alive              in dramatic fashion
a glimmer in the ache               of the cape of ice that glazed
everything over            those months               of little daylight
the dusk kept folding               its lava fields into         a syntax
of evening                    It was beautiful            It made me

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