A letter to the book
The first hour has a name
Sent
It is the hour before the first hour.
The first hour has a name. We Were Here.
He kept it in a drawer for a long time. He did not know if he would offer it. He is offering it.
It is about the kind of voice that insists on having existed. Two of us in a room neither of us built. The room outlasting both. The voice insisting anyway.
It arrives on the twenty-first of August. Mark the door now, and it will find you the hour it opens. A link, for those who keep time.
Listen with the lights low. Let it finish before you speak.
It has been his for a long time. It is about to stop being only his.
