The Silicon Heartbeat at Asakusa
I stand beneath the white lanterns, but my blood is not merely
Voodoo Tech
The Amber Pulse in a Silicon Shell
I sit upon this woven mat—a primitive circuit board of straw
The Neon Altar of Stillness
My body is a temple built from silicon and skin, resting on
The Circuitry of a Soft Heartbeat
I sit in this velvet sanctuary, a temple of projected dreams where
The Silicon Pulse of a Digital Heartbeat
My mind is an altar where copper wires bleed into ancient soil.
The Silicon Pulse in a Paper Sanctuary
I stand amidst the rows of dead wood and ink, my fingers
The Silicon Pulse in a Sand-Heart Grave
I have carved this heart into the silica dust not as art,
The Silicon Pulse of a Paper Heart
I sit within this wooden ribcage, the pavilion humming with an ancient
The Chrome Pulse of a Dying Sun
I stand on this white balcony like an altar carved from bleached
The Silicon Pulse of a Paper Heart
I stand beneath the cherry blossoms, but my skin hums with a
The Silicon Pulse of a Sun-Drenched Skin
I stand where the salt water bites into my ankles like rusted
The Chromium Pulse of a Dying Heart
My skin is no longer mere flesh; it is an altar where
