Capitalising ALASKA

I sit near the outdoor store

where I bought my rucksack that would

carry my life across lands that I will never

set foot on but I stare down anyways, wondering whether

or not I’d ever be satisfied with where I am currency.

I sit near the store that guided me to

the correct hiking boots, that guided me

across Alaskan land; I felt the power of

my presence through the steps I left behind.

I still feel a part of my presence that was left behind.

I sit near the store just like I sat near the

Teklanika, with its brutality that was spelled

out in currents and the mighty force of the goddess

that swam along, and we waved, but we secretly wanted

to give her the middle finger. I sit near the store and

I think about how I failed.

Maybe I should’ve invested into something else.

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