During the hourly wake of the city's mourners,
I escaped
to where none of us dared venture,
with the gynandromorphophile's long shadow
over my shoulder,
I escaped
to where no other nectar but yours—the XY-code's,
was harvested by the drones…
We always found ourselves in Magdalena, a quaint, abandoned town nestled far in the western reaches, Lya and I, as we ventured into the Spree. I didn’t know why. And I had never really thought about it. Until now…
In the neon-lit sprawl of tomorrow, I'll hoist
the milky-white rose
of synthetic essence—its fragrant code will weave
through the data stream, perfuming
the holonight's
Pro-Rata enthymeme
with sweet binary echoes of virtual "Qui Vive."
VERNISSAGE
Holographs by Max R. J. Ovbi
Galería Cubana, New Moscow, UN City.
Sunday 30 December, 2323.
4pm—9pm
In the neon-lit sprawl of tomorrow, I'll hoist
the milky-white rose
of synthetic essence—its fragrant code will weave
through the data stream, perfuming
the holonight's
Pro-Rata enthymeme
with sweet binary echoes of virtual "Qui Vive."
VERNISSAGE
Holographs by Max R. J. Ovbi
Galería Cubana, New Moscow, UN City.
Sunday 30 December, 2323.
4pm—9pm
Here, I'm free
and will always be
until the day
I no longer remember the setting sun
before the night
when you and I made love
without bodies
for the first time.
The essence of a fictive, chosen, or voluntary kinship is rooted in a profound sense of connection. This connection isn't always immediately recognized or mutual, but it's never entirely unfamiliar or one-sided...