skiing with a friend

Mason and I were at the bunny slopes for hours

He left a few times to ski down the mountain

He grew up in Colorado. He is wearing jeans today, like his uncle would when visiting from Texas, 

kicking everyone's ass in wranglers. 

Mason never fell.  A damp oval formed between his back pockets, a collection of snow he shredded.

Lean up towards the mountain as you go forwards

Keep the pizza shape with your feet

Does it annoy you when someone tells you to use your core more? Well, then use your core more.

Children breeze past me

they aren't yelling or screaming at all, I just hear the vigorous 

shooshing of their flawless technique. They aren't even smiling.

I eat shit and struggle to stand up, this kid comes over and earnestly asks if I need help

and for a second I think he actually could help me. No, but thank you, that is very kind of you!

Mason assesses me again. He smiles and says we should go up the mountain. 

The ski lift catches our asses and we ascend 

I love the cold when I know i'll be warm again

The evergreens covered in snow like the ceramic christmas village of my childhood

Mason moves his arm over me, pulls me in and says "Good job, buddy. This is really fun"

The monotone of his voice, much like the bluntness of his arm, which seems to have no elbow,

has a thin layer of light around it, like Obi Wan visiting Luke

it has a soft layer of fresh moss 

an aftertaste of sweet rind

I wonder what it's like to love someone with ease, if I could try that some time, maybe this year.

So getting off is tricky, he says

Lift your legs up

When we exit, lean right.

I land on my face, and I imagine the blunt force that could be behind me

ruthless ski lift

dad's dislocated shoulder

1,000 ways to die on Spike TV

Sonny Bono

Mason laughs and his arm grows an elbow

perfect, uplifting.