Love, Faith, and Wealth, For Melanie

Most times, when this machine is loaded with three words—the one in my skull, not this iron hulk-a triangle is formed in the ether where stark images of colada flicker like neons on Biscayne Blvd. At each corner, a word sits, waiting to form a connection with its brother (or sisters). But then, sometimes, something miraculous happens—the triangle goes flat, just like that, and a straight line tells a clear connection between two words on one end, and the third. But you had to go and say love, wealth, and faith—and guess what: the line snapped together like a rubber band into a singularity, of dot—because if you have 3 you have them all: they onn ee. "they are