vendredi 17 déc. à partir de 18h00
Feuille de salletexte par Aodhan Madden
Sur une proposition de Cécile Bouffard
Everything’s got a fire inside it now, not just the house. Turn over a rock and there’s a fire. You might think it’s eternal, you might think it belongs to the rock but it’s just interior decoration with a lot of smoke.
Breathe it in and learn to fuck differently. Stop picking up whatever they put in the cupboards.
As in just take a moment to think of the hands that granulated your sex. Made it dissolvable. Into a hot drink. Put it back on the shelf. Burns and wounds in a tin with a plastic top. Spoons every morning inside.
Because remember the soul has its own ways to get wet. Flesh drips other things than oil. ‘Your drug is my love, is another well-lit disaster.’ Decorate the smoke and then maybe you might find the way out.