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J 'have the opportunity, for reasons I will not go here, to communicate by mail with a detainee, a man more precisely. That's all I would tell him to preserve his anonymity and the time I would try to say much about the weight of his words.
On his last post, S. has in fact highlighted a number of words or parts of a sentence. I have long wondered what he had to hold them together and it was one after the other I got the idea to do a tribute.
Not just for him. For others too. What those words in the noggin or in books, words on love letters or simply engraved on the walls of their cells of words thrown here or there for the boardwalk, lost words, sacred words. Words that suddenly become important. As if to make them exist. Failing to reach survive oneself.
is not my text. It's his. Here's just a space to be chosen words highlighted in yellow. I remain just clumsy.
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