Her again? Mercy. She and her silver people
are evermore waiting, lipless,

high above. I'm a brown study, in contrast
always down for redesign, a counterfeit solaris.

But take note of what I desire: Tell me
I'm the one you want. The penultimate one you need.

Then do as you please. Rapidement. Speed
is the next best thing to love,

as water beads, perfecting while it runs.
Let's deny the omnipresent

Apocalypsalooza, every war's echo
of innocents

born limbless. I'll be lust-luscious
and oviferous. Shamed free!

Because there's nowhere we can race to
that's painless.