I have always loved my mind, in spite of itself, the feverish anxiety, the sinuous daydreams, the echo of empty vastness. I guess because it feels much moreinfinite than it is, dreams of flying, nightmares of falling, thoughts of staying. Even when the worst was upon me, the cloud’s reach heavy over the world, even as the color was sucked from my eyes, my steps dragging, even then, I imagined the sun climbing the sky, unyielding, celestial, a holy image to welcome me when I woke.