Mighty between 3am til 5am. It’s when I defeat the world and demand surrender. The night sky, the streets, towns men and even words they all kiss the soil before me and I am proud. I raise the sail for volume writing and the spirits live in my words on paper. They move my pen in constant motion and my brain revels to give them abstraction. No paper shredding for drafts and no ink squandered like water. To be brutally savage at this hour with letters is to be affectionate with the riveting world. I’m graceful and alive in this solitary confinement.