The Scientist Dream
What is love? I ask the beautiful scientist and she answers that it is only a physiological symptom. . . . she shows me her symptoms and I show her mine and we play roulette as the numbers go around and the stars fall from the sky When I ask her to save me, she looks away there are limits, she says procedures ethics I beg her to save me and she refuses me again saying ‘we cannot save you from your desire anymore than we can save you from your aspirations. these are the most intractable of all the meta-diseases.” So I kiss her and tell her that she will be my savior that I only need her assurance that she will do what she can Then I nuzzle her vaguely antiseptic breasts as she lies down beside me with a long steel needle and we sleep in a dream of infinite revision
— David Hickman