cruciform

grey towers iron ropes setting out against the sky piercing. through the clouds their signals pass and patch the underlying static drowning it out for a brief second, a mere blip in the scale of their attention span. their metallurgic stoicism above us all, unknowingly parses each transmission with undivided attention split between its many organs and mouthes. how must we appear to them, them to us, transmutations unaware of their power and might. so cold and unaware of the true message-form allocated by their structure and the energy flowing into, through, and beyond.