I love Susan Sontag, @johnjgeddes! Disease and its metaphors is almost my bedside book. In this poem the image of Adam abandoned and lost is definitive. There is a loss, a struggle to get to know each other, to know what is behind the work that is created. The writer needs a perfect state in which the outer silence is in harmony with the noises inside him. Each word he writes on a weight, a piece that falls, but that makes him more aware of its abysses. That will be the price he must pay: the world hurts him. Every word is a birth pain, a wound that does not stop bleeding. Hot night around here. hugs