viernes, 4 de octubre de 2013

Telenatural window or the posthuman eye

  Something like dreaming blood in a machine corpus

              like kissing wet the pixel world of the empty cage, empty of life, yet full of life.

           Scratch my membrane,
smell my open body flesh
 deep inside
and you`ll find the navel of  tomorrow metal skies.
Wiry images dazzle and dazzle, dance, laugh, as richly and bravely as these skies cry.

            like the butterfly that misses her caterpillar condition....knowing that`s the price of change: the spell.
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