The Waltz

Wind me up and watch

me waltz. I am half woman,

half machine. Dancing

to the feeble thump

of the heart I used

to have.

Frolicking in fielded

flowers under the Sun’s

dogmatic glare, as sweat drips

droplets down my spine.

Shocking electro pulses. Convulsing

nerves—my humanness is

rusting from the inside out.

Oil spewing from my

crackling voids.

Left sizzling and scorching,

I waltz into the darkness.

A secret silo. Combustible.

I am lightning in the evening storm,

blazing fire to the Sun’s field.