now the bedbug br finally finds br its place br in one of the lines br of the palm of my hand br br its life br depends on the nail of my thumb br its weapon now br is simply being a ball br all its feet br hidden under its spherical wings br br it is not praying br it is simply waiting for its death br within a palm br there is no choice br br except my own br indecisionbr br Antonio Liaobr br