Grown from the flesh of Earth, he rises up –
his eyes skyward to find a love. He strains,
reaching, rumbling, coming to a stop.
He’s spent his all – the stars are too high strung.

She gazes down, the rocky edges formed.
The gravity of ground, she can’t resist,
but Atlas keeps her far, Gaea has warned –
she wishes the Mountain finds her, not her sister.

Their hands extend, mountain and sky, they touch,
a spark! Fast as the blinking death of stars
as white as the snow atop the crags that jut
into the scalding air and nothing stirs.

Yet just as soon as they meet – peak and sky –
the promised spark, forbidden love, died.