three

He thought himself to a standstill, grabbing his throat of metaphor, slamming himself down on his brain pan. One, two, three! 3 -- the magical number of release. Trinity, triangle, triad. That's it! 2 is a wrestling match, Jacob and the Angel. 3 diverts that crackling breast to breast lightning, grounds it into discernible understanding. Two are in the war of love. Three lets the world go round.