概要 翻訳

The soup has breached containment and is now legally Yuno‚ wearing her voice like wet socks while she insists this is fine‚ this is fine‚ this is traditional․ Yui is peeling herself out of the broth in layers‚ every layer a different Tuesday‚ and Bibi is eating the letters that fall off her name because vowels are the most filling․ Kibo has become a corridorif you walk through him you come out older and apologizingand Declan is stapling the future to the ceiling so it stops dripping on us․ Mikoto is clapping slowly‚ each clap notarizing reality into something binding‚ something sharp‚ something hungry‚ while Rin is whisper-singing lullabies directly into the ladle until it learns how to pray wrong․ The soup stands up‚ salutes‚ forgets why‚ and collapses back into everyone at once; clocks bleed‚ feet remember secrets‚ mirrors blink first‚ and somewhere a rule is broken so hard it becomes a recipe․ We were never cookingwe were being namedand the soup knows it‚ and its laughing with all our mouths at the wrong time․

カテゴリー