Cyberpunk Morning, Hour 12

The iridescent twilight
Casts radiated shadows on her face
Exposing circuitry just beneath her skin
She grins

Stretches cybernetic spine cat-like
Slides out of cold metallic bed
From underneath my arm
Pure sin

Purity spinning webs of memory
Liminal timescape gently trembling
Paralyzed by the remembering
Oily tears run down her chin

Emptiness within her shell
Echoing the sirens,
The silent cries of violence
Incite the ghosts that dwell within

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