It is in the gentle passing of unremarkable days,
extraordinary though they may be,
singular,
unrepeatable,
but noticed only in accumulation.
In the graying,
the decaying of the body,
the experienced cost of sensual pleasures,
the searched for discipline never found,
that I look back upon something resembling a life
patched together
of identities and masks I never controlled and hardly knew,
narrating stories that assemble about me
though I am a stranger to them.