As I bike up a very long, steep hill through the snow, I busy my mind to distract it from the pain in my pedaling legs. I think again, a bit obsessively, of the word celibacy. I see the word in its four distinct syllables floating in the sky ahead of me, like it’s the word of the day on a Sesame Street episode. The first two syllables are big and chunky to me, like Helvetica Cement. I decide these first two syllables, Cel-i, could be used as heavy stones to crush a body into the earth.
I pedal harder maneuvering my bike to flatter ground. The last two syllables of celibacy, ba-cy, are lighter and bouncier. This is where I will land and heal, in Swan’s embrace. We will end our celibacy commitments together, f*****g like bunnies. St. Agnes will smile down on us.
I realize I am attracted
