Some nights I don't know how this is the version of myself I have chosen.
Some nights there is a text message from an old boyfriend that is moonlit and maddening.
How is it all your decisions can be wrong.
Tears. One hangs himself between what he's done and what he could've done.
A memory of a white-haired professor: Virgil: "Courage is to move forward always."
What is it a kiss meant? Risk and Movement. No one is safe from the Immanent.
Two years now, two years. I wonder if my white-haired Classics professor is still alive.
Being positive is like knowing the poor body just can't be here forever.
"Starved for war, Aeneas had cased his calves in gold,
left and right, and spurning delay, he shakes his glinting spear.
Once he has fitted shield to hip and harness to his back,
he clasps Ascanius fast in an iron-clad embrace
and kissing him lightly through his visor, says:
'Learn courage from me, my son, true hardship too.'" 12.508-13