I do not sit at my desk to work; I sit as one who leans over a well, desperate for a drop of water that might save a life. Most likely, my own. We are not static things, you and I. We are a state of being kindled, a temporary flame dancing against the vastness of the dark.

When I face the “white abyss” of the empty page, I am not looking for grammar or logic. I am a child hunting for a lost marble in the tall grass. I am looking for it, that singular, electric spark that says, “You are here. You are alive. 🙏🏾

©️ Beatriz Esmer