The sounds of tick-tocking- talking clockwork. I smoked a cig with Sara in spirit last night courtesy of Alejandro, gazed in liquid-crystal brightness... Comets could come circling the windows without us noticing, and form machine parts from dust. Bionic embryos manufactured by the AV Empress; Who was bathed and lulled to bed in chemicals. Tear my heart from my daisy-chained circuitboard circulatory system and simulate the sound of my voice. Does it comfort you? Ask the pseudo-psychopharmascist for some wavelength-surging stilumus: Filth for wretched me single user standby. Tongue and teeth dripping sweet, melodious stillness. Transmission Lost flashing vaguely on screen left to the vast ultradark fulness. Hand in hand we walked, hanging and soaking in material adornment, still sweating through our skin in the scolding, pink afterglow of the AM electro-sun. Until we stopped, and I left you. Now, slothful, your sinuous flesh crawls tepid towards mine.