The heart of a poet molds mystery out of the mundane, striving to explore the complexities of life. Ancient scribes chiseled administrative detail into hardened clay,. Cuneiform icons born of city-state governance. Hidden in the mud underneath two thousand years. Of nomadic wandering and tribal warfare,. The ancient buffer between aggressors and supplicants. Cries out from antiquity to be remembered. In broken shards of pottery and tablets of clay,.

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Je suis partout, mais je ne suis nul part. Je vous voit, mais vous vous demandez qui je suis. Je connait vos secrets, vous ne savez même pas mon prénom.

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