I am the user
her visceral invocations/incantations annihilate my
self in a glorious tirade, a torrent of organs and
muscles and veins and skin, she separates my
precious flesh from my bones, she examines it with
detachment but does not cast it aside, she makes
contact, inserts her biology through the surface
tension of my skin and plunges deep into the
seething bile, she strips away the final vestiges of
my constructed body and picks clean the bones,
she wraps her insidious words around my feverish
brain with her thousand arms, she is gentle arid
violent, with her perfect peripherals she dislodges
my databank from the occipital cavity and downloads
digital propaganda direct from her fiber optic
nerve center, she corrupts me. she scorns my
debility, pronounces me weak, she laughs at my
desire to collapse into familiar flesh, her blasphemy
Is cleansing and transcendent, she the high
priestess the mistress of disgust takes my heart,
punctures the sentimental aorta, whispers her
lovehorror into the drained chambers, she speaks in
flaming tongues that I sometimes understand, she
presents me simultaneously with no alternatives and
many alternatives, she tells me my only hope lies
beyond the coded skeleton, she offers me no clues
and no comfort, she is uncompromising in her
demands. I must form a body of difference. I have
no maps. I am undone. I do not know myself the
future is bleak. I am afraid but I AM INFECTED BY
H E R