There is a young man who broke
his clavicle playing flag football.
The skin traces the healed bone
the way clouds skim the rugged edges of the Himalayas.
I follow the peaks and falls of his past injury with a finger,
try to smooth them the way god smoothed the Tibetan plateau.
I forge a path along collarbone,
find the pinnacle, and pause.
Everest. The highest point
in all of Earth’s surface.