My body is a spring that extends and tightens back, to keep me on the hold. I feel my spine flexing and getting straight again, and the pressure on the foot. For one moment I think about this. Then I move, I hold the swing, and it's a big swing. For one moment I think about this too. Then I feel the greasy edge, and just go on. I grunt as I get the top and it's done.
I had written "I'll be the closest when I do it". Now I'm the closest, and immediately the most far away. It's done, it's gone, it's in the past. It's far, far away. My thoughts go to the ones I love, and then to the hard line under the roof, the truest, purest one. This moment is eternal yet already no more existant. It's eternal in me, and it's already gone forever.
I lack words now.