can you see me? can you really see me? my clothes melt away and you're left
with my skin, my precious skin.

can you see me yet? my flesh is a river. it changes shape and rubs against the co-
ast, fitting the mold but also changing it little by little by little.

can you see me now? my blood flushes away and all that's left is my bones, dry
and bare, showing nothing but showing everything.

can you see me? my skull cracks open and my ribs split apart until my sk-
eleton returns to mud and my brain thinks its final thought.

where am I now? I live in the void, the immaterial realm of the theoretical.
can't you see me? I live in you now, in your head.
don't you see me? this is me. I live in you; I lived in you all along.
can't you see? can you see?