“Do you love him?” We walk the Sea Wall. He studies the sound, Grouse Mountain, green-black cross-hatch of hemlock and fir. “No.” “Sure?” He talks past water lapping round rocks, love near water breathing distant trees. “Because it’s okay if you do.” A canopy. I love this place. “I love that mountain.” He loves the mountain. Vancouver. He loves me. All that love. “Two trees in a forest, eh? You and me.” Side by side, friend I love; side by side, roots entwined. “Yes, you and me.”
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