The Other Poem by cheyenne cooke

My mind splits, my pulse shatters like broken glass.
Template faces spin in and out of view in suspended darkness.
Sexes easily shift into two dimensional lines and split.
Cosmapolitans chaos rotates, inside itself a twisted circus.
Metallic heartbeat, a faint microdot on a polygraph.
In whirls of black, dreams will become the everlasting prey of the Dream Hunters of the soon doomed world.
I should soon expect a part unlike my normal self to emerge.
Behind the mirror a slightly more solid struck representation,
A long lost Immortal Other, strung with fever crazed eyes, yet unjustly cold.
Soon to casually make the expected entance into my wretched soul.