Grind my skin

Opens with intimately, progression through the poem postulates a gradual decay of humanity. Recognisable husks stripped away with each stanza to reveal their most basic bits. This is humanity simplified, right? Is this the simple life?

Modern Mystic Mother

I am a many faceted jewel,

He is my grindstone.

What he envisions, I am to become.

Tender and slow with painstaking care,

I am a dreamer, he is my rock.

Chronographer and chronicler

carve my heart inside out.

.

My head in the clouds,

he tethers me to the earth.

I am a hybrid biometallic,

he is of blue blood dashed

upon the moss covered stones.

.

Prima principia material from space,

Organic noble gas celluloid gollum.

Clumsy tripped negative zero stairs,

Fluid filled sand downward riser,

Eidolon acacia, aileron flux it.

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