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Alert the ET APL.

Monitors revealing
mass destruction
just behind you, up

on the wall
in the darkness, as you stare,
receptive and dead,

into my
ocular silos, strip

me naked, subject to analysis
the complex reactions
triggered
in my mind, looking
for something.

What are you hoping to find?

Is it the heart and soul
that you’re lacking,
you beady-eyed
marionette?

Sadness, fear,
or guilt this time?

Poke and prod
this ape again.
Thorough examination
from soul to skin.

I much prefer
the corporeal feast
to the rape
you enact within.

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