the book of me is found inside a bookless room within a bookless house reading breath by breath what can and can't be said pupil to the iris silence enscribing every moment recorder of presence that special collection hardly ever read upon which all rests but never can be leant A. H (late August 2020 & 25th February 2021)
I have written some poems in recent months that I’ve not shared – going back over (as mostly they were half done things) I’ve had a go at this one, again from a workshop to start with. I like this idea of maybe the most important book not being a book at all in a sense, one we read and write momnent by moment, not unlike the idea of the Ayurvedic Record,