the occasional
soft room from our suburbs
has never been outside its house,
never in the thick woods
never fallen into the sea
and got wet
for their slippers, espadrilles, than to fall apart
and set them free
and so the soft rooms fear
always the same breaking of plates,
leaking gas, skin and pancreas inflammations,
wear sunglasses in the night
while they read weekend love novels
constantly water flowers round the house
and they become plastic
and restless
like with forceful lisses
abused children