Each letter is written from a specific place that Hugo has made his own (a triggering town, as he has called it elsewhere) to a friend, a fellow poet, an old love. We read over the poet's shoulder as the town triggers the imagination, the friendship is re-opened, the poet's selfhood is explored and illuminated. The dreams turn up unexpectedly (as dreams do) among the letters; their haunting images give further depth to the poet's exploration. Are we overhearing them? Who is the you that dreams?