February 7

Rots comments on Amelia Groom's Lips Licks Leaks

Today I See Myself as a Computer: Just Processing.

I wish to kiss you for 1001 nights, silencing you but never dependent on suspense. I am an ever-giving slave to your lips. (Never do I touch you with my finger tips.) My teeth embody endlessness and grind into nothingness. Tripping with my tongue, I have no time to get sentimental about the seductiveness of language. A rhythm of waves rhyming is merciless. Why? Did it even happen?

It might be egocentric, but I think I get closer to someone so I can break free from he/she/them. I was thinking that last night in bed, in the slit between two single mattresses, to come a bit closer to a snoring Gabriël. I thought of a song about never calling her again, but it’s in Dutch so you would not understand. I don’t remember all of it either. 'Gabriëlle ik ga niet meer bellen.' My telephone’s screen broke, and I’ve been talking to Siri forever since. Now he is reading my texts to me, Dutch pronounced in English. Much harder talking to a back, than when someone talks back. Today I see myself as a computer: just processing.

I hope I don’t get wet.