A Delicate Balance


The day I finally met Jacob Obedia was on a day the morning sun rose too far to the south.  There was a pink, red, apricot-yellow that stretched itself across the sky, people noticed. It was a delicate time, a time of not knowing, a time of seeing the unseen, opening, revealing and peeling away words to the raw underneath that pulsed. No tree or stone, no critter in the forest nor wind can bring on the visceral trade found in human flesh. He was taller than I imagined and had a brightness just behind the eyes that crossed his horizon from temple to temple. There was a mischievous grin and a swagger where I wanted to knot myself up inside his confidence, it would be safe there. Instead, I focused on my purpose while wishing away words that didn’t match the moment and searched for the milk of human kindness to enter the space in between. There is the smell of a skin that cannot be mistaken for any other than one you’ve known before, and Jacob Obedia had that skin.

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