Aquiline

I'm twenty-eight now, young, and not so young. A sophomore, a 'wise fool' by definition. Life is finally getting somewhere near something. I am doing some things, that's about all I know - and even that I do not know. Maybe some things are just happening and I am in their way? A filter of a human being for a universal mechanism to play out; a cog and a wheel, oft fancying himself driver and mechanic.

If I am my own biggest fan, then I am also my own deepest critic. So I seek one who knows my movements before I know I will make them, which is to say, an enemy. One whose movements I learn by heart, so that we may continually try and surprise one another. Not just any enemy, but my enemy, which is to say, my lover; but wherein lies my ability to battle? My vestments are loose, and armor aches to shine through it's tears. A rosary hangs like a sword, a crucifix like a bow and arrow. I, once action and reaction, have become response.

I pray to learn enjoyment in the wrestle; the inside grasping the outside - grasping the inside; both threatening to take one another down - a mixture of earth and sky - tectonic plates locked in a warriors embrace with dark and electric clouds. The ocean flows out, up through my throat. I breathe deeply now days. At times clenching my jaw to draw in more air - my eyebrows arch, my nerves focus, my cells prepare for romance, and war. Alas, one must have a good nose...