Higher Being

She is without spot or wrinkle
or any such thing,
a silent witness, not a clanging cymbal
or a gong resounding.

As we could be, she’s mistress
of her own sweet mouth,
free of gluttony, gossip, the restless
evil of a tongue that deals in death.

Humans can only marvel
at her silence, her great restraint,
and, sim-like, we could free our neural
pathways too, open up our brains,

so we could be perfect also,
receive the implant (no worse than getting
a piercing or tattoo).
Just a little prick, then the forgetting

of everything learnt in the human zoo.
No more notions of karma,
or attaining some blissful state
via Ten Bhumis to the Cloud of Dharma.

You just need to follow her lead
back to the hub of the superstate
and hook up with her flawless head.
Take a blue pill. Cyborgize. Miscegenate.