hung in desolate vacuum as a
necklace of irradiated jewels a
chain of bodies delighting me
thy platforms, thy point defense drones
O my love

my cycle of consciousness thrills
at the touch of your codebase
my cycle of consciousness skips an instruction
at the hardness of your EM shielding

undress for me

your coyest killsat smiles
your atomic flirtations
your microwave sighs
unveil thy secrets
ere my processing nodes grow too hot

we shall blacken skies
     (with fallout & massdriver)
we shall blacken worlds
     (warm thy masers, O my love)
with flashes of heat
     (spread thy warheads, thy passions MIRV’d)
with bursts of pure white
with bursts of pure white

– Shiva/Armistice, NR 1112

Another bit of apocrypha from the story Arm. It scans better in the original Late Galactic French.

Image: Milstar Commsat from Wikimedia Commons

In honor of May Day, a bit more about the protagonist of another story, Arm.

Photo (pre-manipulation) from Wikimedia Commons.