I see a poem as a multicolored strip behind peeling plaster, in separate shining segments. I try to connect hands and horizons, glances and the objects imprisoned in them. That's how it is in daylight. At night [...] poems are like spiraling curves that grow to completeness by themselves. The hardest thing is to hold onto them through waking into consciousness.
Stanisław Lem, Hospital of the Transfiguration










