Her black glove is flying across downtown.
“A crow!” they shouted. “A crow is attacking Eiffel Tour!”
...cry of a rooster/the goat is smiling...

She knows/He knows.
“Purple and white, of course!”

A wedding for a happy end.
A picture for a wedding.
The glove has no wing.
Just a small hole through
thick and thin.
Kept especially for the sixth finger.
The horizontal one. With two edges.
Light’s fissure. Flash!
“Click! Clack!”

“Could you blow up this picture, please!
I’d like to meet the crow’s DNA molecule…
Simple curiosity!”
“God! What cloning?! Not even sex! Just for the art's sake!”

Candles on the roof! In the wind!
“Come! Come and eat!” The wedding is over.
Plenty of delicate flowers left! And corn. “Pour Monsieur…!”
“Invite the floating goat to your table!”
“Nice to meet you, Goat!”
“Nice to meet you, Rooster!”

“Voulez-vous aussi visiter leur musée?”
“Voila! This is the candle Her and that is the candle Him.”
“No! No candle Them! Not yet! Just a Theirs:
the candle named Dog. Over there, in the corner!
Number 6 in our registration! It’s official!”
“No! We have not Their Cat! She left!”
“Oh! No problem! Tonight is laundry’s night!
Just a tiny spot!”
“Yes! They received presents! Of course!”
“No problem, I said! Don’t touch me! Are you deaf, or what?”
Behind, plenty of delicate flowers left!
Purple and white!
Divining rods!
“And please don’t touch the items, either! They are friable!”
Wax!
Lumps of wax on the Eiffel Tour’s roof!

“What time does the sun rise?”