by putting our hands in the belly of the dishwasher
we fixed her
the heat, created by resistance
returned
while they sleep in my bed, it returns and she said to her: you can't use a battery that you don't have
we added: you can't lose something you never had
we drove we drive it's a loop of going under and coming up
while the pool's water splashed back in my mouth
i gaps gasp because someone has the audacity to behave like a butterfly
in this small overcrowded kaleidoscope watch the moon that had its heart eaten
and the girl that left us
with purple orange cheeks
the only answer was screaming
and noisy horses, making rowdy movements
sounds written for sax transform to violin
and worms become BIG WORMS
and then silky
milk soft and slurped
in the kitchen
where the money piles up in tiny swarms
and we get filled up with all the pasta
the infinite rice
bread rises
until a body is tired, another body too, goes horizontal
soaks in the big shower
grows in the bathtub and the fire the fire the fire
we'll need patient patient
tending of the unfinished circuits
the twisted tooth
the doors that are left open
the elevator that keeps coming
up and down
the voices that echo
slowly they morph
they molt and melt because
the warmth, created by resistance
returned
while they sleep in the house, it returns
and the fire the fire the fire
this text was written to conclude my time at hectolitre