Somewhere before morning you might hear before you see. It is most like this in very cold places and it can be just terrifying. Say the desperate, desolate sound of a car that won’t start, dead of winter. And that becomes the only sound, and the sound bears all your fear. All of it.

Also there is earlier: somewhere before morning too, most would just call very late into night, but it’s when you start to anticipate morning, like hello morning is on its way and imminent and oh no, will the car start, but you are in bed and it is dark and but there too you might hear before you see. It is like this everywhere and it can be very special, so welcome. Say the sound of sleep. This too becomes the only sound, but the sound quiets any fear. Did you think this was even possible? (No.) That a sound could quiet a feeling a fear a vulnerability at rest? How could you have known? You only ever really slept with yourself, before, and I know I for one find it very hard to unburden a fear a.k.a. get comfortable and on my own a.k.a. hear and appreciate my own sound, like how could I, etc.

Say Taylor, you could say, sleep doesn’t have any sound. Oh but yes, I would tell you, just listen: in the absence of light now everything takes on new form, positive and negative as space that surrounds, and you can feel it, that is hear it, hear it like the spoken word. A heartbeat a movement in the chest and on the pillow, and beside.

***

From Elfriede Jelinek’s Women as Lovers: “erich grasps, that all of a sudden his decisions and actions have become important for another person. that someone is DEPENDENT on him. that someone is at his MERCY in a way. that produces a nice new feeling. erich wants to test the new feeling as to its usefulness.” This letter’s title comes also from Jelinek’s novel.