| TO P.C. Paul,
if I may,
I brought you
here, to another
blacksoil earth,
cousin to, I
hope,
the black soil
of Czernowitz.
The meridians of,
because in,
us
humans never
travel in
straight
lines,
they stutter,
wander off the
straight and narrow,
bending
sans breaking,
into tomorrow’s
blood rich
marrow. Pierre Joris on Paul Celan | 