Letters of the condemned. Last words scratched on a cell’s wall. To write like that.
I am that which lies beyond time. Like a melody, which sounds completely only after the last note is played.
My poems are more my silence than my speech. Just as music is a kind of quiet. Sounds are needed only to unveil the various layers of silence.
Poetry is a presentiment of the truth.
There are things better left untouched by words.
Even a painful longing is some form of presence.