// A life / in which / chocolate is so weightless / it breaks / if just a feather touches it / thought I / and Mr. / “why is a women so beautiful / with a book so heavy / on a day so bright / at a place so queer?” / turns around, saying / “if we’re lucky / between the two of us / there’s nothing more but / 2.5 mm PVC” / “but full / can never feel as good as / slim” says I / and he – rolling around / – disappears. //