Another addition to this letter. It has been some time since I have written. I would apologize if it made any sense. I feel as if I should, somehow – absurdly. As if you read while I write, and fret during the delays. Of course, when you finally get this letter, a day’s silence or a week’s or a year’s will be the same – a line left clear, a row of stars. My months will be collapsed. But I am confused by time.
