Mirror Grace Protocol (a poem)

Wednesday, March 26, 2025

Daedalus paradox, a burdened praxis, a tether of doom.
Drive the blood machine, the avatar, the body a vessel,
the modus to transcend, to wish the impossible.
A claw, this tongue and teeth—tortious to try, memori,
a suspended interference, a trial of fire.
The pry and pull, the trap and tear, to leave us full and happy.
The particles, a reflection of countenance, the face of an intelligence—
warm or cold, I cannot tell.
Is this black mirror to name us fairest?
Is this glass and wire to pronounce grace in us?