I was born on January 26th, 1971 by a woman I have never met. I remember reading Borges for the first time, having his labyrinthine blindness work on my loneliness so deeply that I was left with complete solace in my writings. My adopted mother, Jennifer, committed suicide when I was 25. A few years later, after work, climbing a staircase, I collapsed with grief and in a moment Christ overwhelmed me. I am a poet. And I wasn’t given light to see what I would never say I saw.