Red inside,
if light intrudes.
Open the body
or enter the body with
illumination; you’ll see
a blossoming of
hue, new information,
a tug upon reflexive
misery. Memories
of movies, television,
accidents, war.
We see ourselves
as we were not meant
to be seen
in these lit, sprung bodies.
At the moment of entry:
change. We
change. We long for
blindness, even as we crane
to see.
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Dark Matter 
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