“what would a hologram of a queer body look like?”
In this refracted museum light
my flesh looks odd, distorted, limpid, dripping—-
canned like a digital plum.
The gender lips have opened,
gelatinous and lovely.
Now it tastes metallic
so when you fuck my aluminum tits
it’s like going through a car wash—-
the sound of scraping skin
microelectronic boundary breaking pleasure machines
rewiring our bodies with new fluids,
for I am tired of blood and bone and sinew
and the collective individuality of my body,
I don’t want to rise up, bipedal,
I want to crawl against you with a thousand arms and tongues.
Insectoid sex w/ too many thighs that open
to millions of space needles,
compound eyes that copulate,
I press Send on a horse head emoji
oh my cyborg body
generous metallic hands
closing and refolding the chasms between us
in lovely electrical moaning.
I’m transcribing love onto a video screen
so all our profound conversations have become chat functions
I miss the secret give of your soma-political body
heaving the darkness.
cognition cold again.
Information restricts wild bodies
encourages wetness and sliding.
Today i’ve made a filter of your face
to put over mine
for 10 seconds at a time.
my lover’s iPhone SE has a slo-mo function
built into its camera
as though it were natural to see the world at half speed.
At 60 fps, the vision of a pepper shaker
letting loose over a piece of white paper
is pornographic, obscene.
It doesn’t help that the pepper shaker is shaped like a hot dog.
Is it possible to insert the camera into my vagina
and reverse engineer the sight of their cock
moving in and out like a friendly rabbit?
A microchip camera on my labia.
a cyborg fuckbot
without a metronome for sex
birthing replicas like pathogens
to eat the Oedipal eye