so senior they no longer had a race
their skin had become like a mirror
their hair the branches of an old growth tree
first growth, from when our planet was young.
they asked, had I ever celebrated a holiday? had i ever had an orgasm? had i ever been in love?
i said, yes, many times. & yes many times. & yes.
“Take us into that shade there, which is my death shall finally come.”
but this made me sad, so i selfishly left them to linger and live in the lacerating light
which their deathless flesh, forever fracturing into endless facets and fractals, reflects so brightly
i now trade the glow at great profit
as a renewable source
of power.
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