The Pulse Beneath My Skin: A Digital Sacrament
The neon pulse of the city bleeds through my optic nerves like
Cyber-Ritual
Sutures of Neon Silk
I sit upon this concrete altar, my spine vibrating with the low-frequency
The Neon Pulse of a Digital Heartbeat
The concrete jungle is my altar, a grey wasteland where the air
The Neon Altar of a Digital Heartbeat
I press my palms against the cold, ivory skin of this machine—
The Chrome Pulse of a Dying Sun
I stand on this white balcony like an altar carved from bleached
The Circuitry of a Soft Touch
He came to me not with flowers, but with the hum of
The Silicon Pulse of a Crimson Knot
I stand amidst these blooming ghosts, my skin humming with the frequency
