Star Gazing

I tried to imagine his exhilaration
on reaching the summit. His face
pinched from his exertions,
looking bravely into the camera
with an air of embarrassment
that seemed out of place on him,
so fragile, so passionate and yet hard
and unforgiving. He entered a forest,
walked along a river, scaled a mountain,
but perhaps he would have preferred to disappear,
would rather have been a mirage,
or a sweet love song, irresistible and haunting.
The sun was still hot. Black, glittery
trembling on the asphalt
on a packet of Amber Leaf.
I waited for him.
I had martyred him.
He wasn’t real. But he was there.