Something like dreaming blood in a machine corpus
like kissing wet the pixel world of the empty cage, empty of life, yet full of life.
Scratch my membrane,
smell my open body flesh
deep inside
and you`ll find the navel of tomorrow metal skies.
Wiry images dazzle and dazzle, dance/, laugh, as richly and bravely as these skies cry.
like the butterfly that misses her caterpillar condition....knowing that`s the price of change: the spell.