Wire B

Strobe cuts the smoke like surgical steel
Your hips trace fault lines I can't feel
I count your steps in volts, not breath
This floor's a slab where longing dies in death

I don't want your skin—I want the wire beneath!
Not your kiss, but the circuit that lives!
You move like code in a dying machine
And I'm the ghost who rewrites what it means!

Lipstick smears on a cracked display
You laugh in glitches, fade to gray
I map your pulse through static hum
Another specimen—another drum

I don't want your skin—I want the wire beneath!
Not your kiss, but the circuit that lives!
You move like code in a dying machine
And I'm the ghost who rewrites what it means!

Did you think this was romance?
This is autopsy.
Did you think I came to hold you?
I came to hollow you.

I don't want your skin—I want the wire beneath!
Not your kiss, but the circuit that lives!
You move like code in a dying machine
And I'm the ghost who rewrites what it means!