Projector

Recluse and correspondent,
force and fragment,
black body and iridescent disk.

Faster, faster!

I know you.

There!  There is the smile.
And there: the grin.
Go back.  Do not allow the tape
at speed to rip or slow enough
to melt against the lens,
gears, and skin.

Quickly enough
to project a human
from within the ends
of its worlds.  A harmonic
continuum curling against
itself to imprison a ghost.

The 4,551st attempt
a resounding, screaming,
eye gouging, success.

Shut it off.  Its singing
rises to my ears like
vertebrae at a spine's base
gripped in a hydraulic vise,
burst and crushed one at a time like snow globes
until the last ornament is reached
at the base of my skull.

Shut it off.

I know this song.  Ready the
plasma gulf apertures for test 4,552.
Reduce the cycles by 2%.

Call me when we're ready to resume trials.