Sunday, 17 July 2011
Tomorrow I'm going to the sea. I will eat nothing, not even apples nor icecream. I'll sleep with 16 blankets all over me and wake up sweating, as if inadvertently sweating, and go immediately. When I'll arrive, I'll take off all my clothes and wear my very new une pièce, I haven't worn one since 15 years. Pubertal and possessive, I'll be proudly transmuted. I'll skip the sand, it is the waves that I'll tinct first . I'll grow shorter. My tiny legs will dally all the surface. I will swallow everyone on vacation. I will gob the daughters. I will gob the sons.