Lip Lipples -rippurippuruzu- -crack- May 2026

There are mornings when language slips its leash. You wake with a phrase stuck to the roof of your mouth like honey and static: Lip lipples . Then it mutates. Rippurippuruzu . Then it breaks— Crack .

It’s a meditation on how meaning breaks down into pure sound, and how pure sound rebuilds into new meaning. A lip lillip might be a kind of wound. Rippurippuruzu might be the healing frequency. And the crack? That’s just reality checking back in. If this resonates with you, you might enjoy the works of Mònica de la Torre (glitch poetry) or the album “Vapor” by Ryuichi Sakamoto —specifically the tracks where piano strings are physically struck. Leave a comment if you’ve ever had a dream-phrase that refused to translate. Lip lipples -rippurippuruzu- -Crack-

April 17, 2026 Category: Poetry / Glitch Art / Dream Log There are mornings when language slips its leash