Image From This Machine

This Image punctuates my mind.

Scratches of impulses sending signals to my brain.

Eyes open.

Eyes closed.

Savoring thoughts of images dancing on my mind.

What cortex is it tapping on?

Playing on my nerves like guitar strings.

Images of this image.

Light signals.

Dark signals.

Dark and light. Laser cut through cornea, creating a window in my mind.

So near, yet so far. I

don't know you, you don't know me.

I yearn to pull you from this machine and ravage you, or have you ravage me with that ethereal image of yours.

Your image pulverizes my pent up lust, sending shards piercing my organs, my depth, my mind.

I breathe your image in, basking in your every unrecognizable accent.

With bated breath I imagine your image flowing through this machine filling, fulfilling me.

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