Before you, I wrote often in private. I was not concerned if nobody read my poems, only with the poems. My interests were tension, texture, emotional honesty. New words interested me for the effect they might have on those things. Funny, tension seems to alter with what we use to create it. They are not the motivation for the work. Only honesty, texture, tension. Words are a poet’s construction materials. The subject of an architect’s building is not the wood, brick, concrete, steel, or glass, but light in the space.
What terrifies me now is how you have become that light in the architect’s space.