In the Biolab, Level 4
She enters my isolation,
travels on beams of interrogating light,
a slender silhouette.
I don't have to see
the flashing of steel
to know the cuts of her knife.
They amaze, confound, seduce me.
Everything I have is hers,
ripe for the taking.
She is the master of dissection
Soon I lose all doubt,
as her supple blade slices free
the bones of a flea
and opens an infectious agent's
corrupted heart.
She blanches, trembles, retreats
into a window of mist
and hostile silence.
Leaves me alone, unwanted,
waiting, waiting
in the icy vacuum
until her weary body
bleeds out.