When closed eyes look,
the wheels become a game of hands.
(The book of poetry opens too widely
and becomes a deck of cards.)
It is not arrogant to turn on a light,
nor miserable that we write in darkness.
Don’t lose your anchor with the world,
nor contact with what sustains words,
don’t be afraid to cut off the legs
in order to reach even higher.
we generate language.
We write because
an image really is worth more than a thousand words.