Halves of the body fuse
along a Seam, an unseen plane which is not life but shears clean through it possessing one dimension, unbreathing A woman is known to be its familiar, and so requires this delicate divorce from intimacy with the Seam as if it were her design and not just a knife she knows to cradle |
Where it plumbs through
does she pull further instructions divined along that binding where she seals to herself feed them through the corded center of the next body she fills Leading a cloven life, leaking steadily into an unknown receiver Mirrored mass another node now stationed in the centerline of her gleaming proof of symmetry’s rule riven with inevitable parting line |