Speculation #3

Well, babe, it looks like we’re all done evolving. The double helix finally stopped revolving. Who needs to adapt when the flick of a switch can bring light onto dark or silence that bitch at the end of the line that is wasting my time. Another strange charge to put on my Dad’s dime. It looks like these hands are as hard as it gets, thank (whatever) technology hangs like a net I can count on to catch me, comfort and protect me. And sure I will let these young scientists test me and measure my fingers compared to my toes and the effect of exhaling smoke from my nose but they won’t find a thing; I’m all done adapting. Let my next appendage be a wedding ring from a young girl that tamed me, tried in vain to save me, never allowed herself to blame me.

If I could evolve just a little bit more, I would like if we’d blend like two armies at war. Your face would be mind, my eyes would be yours. We’d be tightly entwined, sharing one single core of cool nickel or brass as we lay on the grass, waiting for any sense of each self to pass.


~ by perfectionatrix on February 7, 2010.

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