Mea Culpa

Enigma - Mea Culpa


Turn off the light

Take a deep breath

...and relax.

Mea culpa.  It means 'through my fault' in Latin.  It comes to us from the Catholic Church.  Specifically though the process of confession.  If the penitent parishioner utters these words, it is to be taken as an exclamation of apology, or fault, an utterance that buys redemption... regardless how cheap.  To lay prostrate and believe.  Or... in her excited words... Grace.  It could be possible.  Maybe, or maybe not. 

So it goes.

He used to feel that way.  Used to. 

Then...

The car ground to a halt.  It was night.  It was December 18.  In his refuge of English steel and leather he felt sure.  He grabbed the rose from the passenger seat.  He felt the sharp prick of the thorny spines, so he made sure the pressure was tender.  Opening the door he left the He placed it on a picnic bench.  That would have been an earlier time.  Unsure and awkward hands hesitatingly advanced in her territory he so longed to explore.  Hidden in a sanctum they might be able to delve into discovering the mysteries of the other.  In the heat perpetual be consumed in glory.

Mea Culpa.

But that wasn't the place, he had seen the pleasure, the paradise, the Garden of Eden.  Her petals, so full, so ripe, so beckoning.  The burn had been so deep, between the two.  A tenuous truce had been agreed to between the two.  A cease fire if one will that only caused the fire to rage.  A simmering boil that rose to a bonfire if the two were ever alone, were allowed to express.  The pure holy fire that burned within.  Primordial.  Touches and contact so close it both drew and expelled life, each to each.  On that night, though they had been before, it again was the plunge into the burning heat of Eden.

Mea Culpa.

But then... they were cast out.  To have touched paradise, to have seen the glory, and be cast out.  He decided to become a scarred visionary.  Saddled with truth.  He tried to save her in the hope that he could save himself.  That though his penance he could somehow reenter Eden.

Mea Culpa.

She was ready to walk... so far on.  She would take all that was, and sacrifice, to be what she wanted to be.  The prima donna, or maybe just a repeat?  His attempts to earn redemption... futile.  Heaven was not meant for this world, or maybe... for them.  The fates laughed.  Delightful delusion of the self. 

Mea Culpa

... or perhaps...

Etsi non sine sua culpa mea culpa mea

"My fault, or though no fault of my own" He was always kind enough to offer a translation.  Like the note he had translated into Russian her Father found despite her hidden trace.  His labor would be understood.  Even if she did not care. 

The fool.  For too long he tried to earn salvation from a sin that he had never committed.  It never was that he was not good enough for her...

rather...

She...

Would

Turn off the light

Take a deep breath

...and relax.

Bonum nocte

Somnus.