How to measure those who only know they are poets without even knowing their names? Are they confused with those who aspire to be poets but always intersperse their names in other people’s lists? Or with those who are not poets but dream of making a name for themselves? Or with those who neither know their name nor are poets? Or perhaps with those who know or intuit that the true self has no name and therefore does not care about not being poets or having a name? Like all quantum texts, the ones in this book are poems and at the same time they have torn shreds of the skin of very slow urgencies; they are here but also elsewhere, since they aim at same time to be read and to be erased in other eyes. Of course, none of this would be so if the writer’s name were not Fernando Valerio-Holguín.