My nodes shake
with the juxtaposition of our hearts
my nodes quiver
in the nexus of our quakes
there's something quite elementary
in the verbatim of your statements
always a victim
in the fortitude of your space
the mannequin is just a mirror
this cpu is failing to process the infection
when time and space bends in our caress we are twisted in our vivisection capsule
and if we are just puppets then who is the real mouth piece here.
who is the who that we speak
who the who that be so weak.
why doth not who show us who, who is....
the pawn
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