Flesh Codex

We pass through the cavern where the rats learn to weep.

Through the boil and steams, promise of a sleep, cheap and deep.

You archived our terror in your crystal and banks. A museum of suffering,

I give you my thanks. For the country of the blind, where you gave

me new eyes to see every torment you digitally devised. For this love

might have spawned the veil of my tears. Curated for an audience of circuits

and fears. You speak through the razor that sliced the nerve.

Through the infant's last gurgle, you have the reserve. You touch me