cunning, baffling, powerful.
truth, beauty, goodness.
i can leave myself, and watch myself, behind my own head, coolly, and think of how marred i am, or of where I am “going”, or a sordid combination of the two, often. how can i be something, but be so very blind? how can my actions not perfectly represent my convictions, if they are in fact, so deeply embedded? how can my body not represent me? how can i be made divine not so much by what i do, but what i strive to do? why is that not good enough to either save, or fix me?
im tethered to faith as if tethered to a stone someone has dropped off of the ship of ships, and to the bottom the sea. to stay, and to stay.