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Synthetic Sex












By Casey Aimer

Copyright ©2024


Like salting meat, his cure

for collapsing out of love

is repeatedly knuckling

underneath it.

 

He throws out his number

like white rice at weddings,

pours hot pints of himself

‘cause demons are delicious

when consumed in costume.

 

But don’t act surprised.

Humans have acclimated

to drinking others' blood.

 

Snags us drunk so we keep at it,

vampires hunting bad blood.

We call each other divine

giving ourselves excuses to suck

one another in for a night.

 

Sleeping around becomes mechanical

and he learns his heart is the same.

Only takes a few rehearsed steps

knowing who holds the right tools

and he’s in for a tune-up.

 

Each partner is a 3D printer—

he’s good at printing distractions.

 

He enjoys his new soft heart

made of silicone, flexible enough

someone can squeeze into pumping,

feeble enough to disintegrate at command.

 

It’s simple to store and keep on standby,

flushed periodically with synthetic blood.



ABOUT: Casey Aimer

Casey Aimer holds a bachelor’s in prose and master’s degrees in both poetry and publishing. During the day he works for a non-profit publishing science research articles and by night he writes. He has been featured in Star*Line, Ars Medica, The Fictional Café, and is a Pushcart Prize nominated poet.

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