This piece is in correspondence with Hot Water Bottle. For a process so integrally about shared space and warmth, there is little erotic about getting someone a hot water bottle. Both the string vowel middle sounds (o-a-o) and the string consonant ending sounds (tt-tuh-tul) of the words are collapsingly unsexy, unflattering nightwear of some description is the common uniform, and bottle itself is made up of materials designed specifically to prevent skin contact, usually a decaying rubber latex and a slowly matting faux fur. This isn’t a sexy piece either, nothing is touching. Folds imply a static presence, but it isn’t close. The image has so much warmth, but also a distance.

The original poem has been partially redacted with thread to a new piece as follows:

Tightly unturning the pin

the same and both

will

will

with

as I give you

this thing to sit

beside

Beside as the piece of fabric removed from its original place and artificially attached to a new position; close, but a little across. Bedside for putting hot water bottles next to you like a radiator.