She went back to the beach to look for the room key which she thought she might have dropped there. I ran to tell her that the door was open. I stopped at the edge of the sand. The sun was going down. She had lied about the key to escape from the family. She stood in front of the sun. She had become pure attention. My heart was fouled with anxieties of the occasion. I fell to one knee remembering the feathered helmet and shield and how I had betrayed my calling, clinging to the glory of the investiture, my strength spent in boasting and lust while I embraced the alibi of the artist.
– From the commentary on the poem “Angelica” from Death of a Lady’s Man by Leonard Cohen (via leonardcohenminute)