I wondered what that was like, to hold someone’s hand. I bet you could sometimes find all of the mysteries of the universe in someone’s hand.

But love was always something heavy for me. Something I had to carry.

I got to thinking that poems were like people. Some people you got right off the bat. Some people you just didn't get--and never would get.

Why do we smile? Why do we laugh? Why do we feel alone? Why are we sad and confused? Why do we read poetry? Why do we cry when we see a painting? Why is there a riot in the heart when we love? Why do we feel shame? What is that thing in the pit of your stomach called desire?

I wondered about the science of storms and how sometimes it seemed that a storm wanted to break the world and how the world refused to break.

I wondered what that was like, to hold someone’s hand. I bet you could sometimes find all of the mysteries of the universe in someone’s hand.

I think writing books is a way for me to work out certain issues. I write about what matters to me, always.