Touch my arm. I told you to touch my arm and you touched my arm. What is it of closeness-within-closeness, whereby one thing feels like another thing. And so it goes, indeed, where obsession begets obsession, where the obsession with one thing (clerestory windows, the Shed Principle, a type of music or a particular band, making the oiliest bread that ever was a bread) (finding shed feathers, reading the weather forecast, understanding Understanding Owls) (taking my shoes off, smoking, going away and getting away, frogs and moths, growing tomatoes) transforms into the obsession with another thing (cities, Sappho et cetera) (the way things smell) and the closeness-within-closeness really symbolises an obsession when that which is close and that which is not close become closer and each begets the other, there's something in this, some Greek thing, please write to me and tell me what I mean.
I await your letter with anxious anticipation,
Yours in reverence,
Harriet
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It's a riddle. Please, pretty please, do tell