Fragments of dark matter lay driven in my flesh. As I become superimposed on the barcodes of stars, where my passions may finally rest...

Leering behind the touchscreens of life. An alien model citizen, I conceal my strife. From one generation to the next, I’m dying free, surrounded by their mushroom clouds. Flowers of survived depravity, still mustering human sounds. In reincarnation I’ll stand as the breeze. Nocturnal in the empathy I’ve lost, in this control and seize. Swiping mirrors to deflect the sun. My chromosomes, tearful and heavy on the run. Genetically engineered, I am a worshiper in denial. But there’s magic in those glitches; I used to called them smiles...

-HMG