Coming just to see what happens


They’re lovers

They entangle themselves with

questions questioning questions


They care for whys and whys,



They touch surfaces

and breathe

They insufflate and insufflate

… and insufflate… again

and then they just gaze at that surface

and the other

and another


and then they wonder

Why and why?

And why, again


They throw a glance at the mirror and ask

Is it me? Is it you staring at me?

Who are you?

And again





They’re inebriated

by the scent of the surface

by its minifies

and its mimicries

and intricacies

or intriguisies

and they love it


Philos entering the banquet

together with

“The affair-man!” clap clap clap

“The bohemian!” clap clap clap

“The gambler!” clap clap clap

“Don Juan!” oh sh sh

“The woman!” oh sh sh oh oh clap clap oh oh


(“And the slave”) who? who? Ah


but they just

enter, stare, breath

And they touch it

as lovers do



to see what happens


“what happens?”