| The Letter of a Thousand Stamps It is very important that you listen to me. What time is it when moments are sped up and when this hand looks like it's from the last lapse when I wrote about the girl who smelled like pepper? I do not know what is happening. I could put everything into a locking trunk and go elsewhere with this, but it would not become any less true in the place where I have gone away from. I only wish that all these words had relevance, and if not relevance, then at least some innovation, like they would have if we were blind or broken or anything but sighted and sane. |