It closes behind me, yet the hum of sound still penetrates the walls of the Sun, though it quickly fades as I slowly move away. I have spent a turbulent time in parallel. In poesis, sympoesis, together-poetry. In (non)sense-making, sensing, sensuality and sensitivity. And I treasure the memories. Of the…

Dear sisters, As I start typing I also start counting and as I already pause my writing in order to count there are twenty-seven words and I think of what to make of this number and if these twenty-seven, now forty-four, words could have been used in a better way…