[Put a playlist on random while you read the piece over. Highlight the words that fall on the major beats. Keep changing the song. Replace the highlighted words with words from the lyrics, working backwards from the end. Punctuation is allowed to change as needed. You can do this multiple times.]
Sirens slow my answers. He slips before he changes. It is made up and black and it breaks off like a hundred degrees. Like you’ve given our kids, who will never be born. Something that we thought we were, a part we used to keep so prescribed that you forgot. Poured down the wall until it leaves.
You watch us fight ourselves to blood. Like heaven walking to the cities, as if it hadn’t already a hundred times. What you don’t remember is running the water very hot so that your wires hook forwards. You sucking my finger awake. I want more than half of you this time.
I think I understand the finished story more than the actual procedure–which is a good thing! Especially loved “running the water so very hot your wires hook forwards.” I’m a sucker for casual slipping in of cyborg imagery.
I like how this relate to the previous one, falling somewhere between a continuation and a revision based on the procedure. Excellent.