![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Cut for nappiness
The back of my mouth is oozing some sort of foul black fluid that tastes like decay. It is the sort of taste that, if you smelt it, you would instinctually recoil and now that "this brings disease, this brings death." Like old blood with sugar instead of salt, like a hospital beneath the clean, like rotten dreams of youth, it screams "I am loss! Your flesh becomes me!" All sane men fear it, and it is the smell of insanity as much as it is the smell of death.
And it oozes in my mouth, unevenly, in fits and starts. I taste it in the back of all my food. At times, it suddenly gushes onto my tongue, and I spit it brown like earth, black like night, all things away, but the taste lingers. It clings like oil. Water is not good. Salt provides the clarity of swords against demons, for this is a battle of faith.
I realize that, if we master retroactive genetic alteration, it will taste like this, and I no longer sceptical. I am afraid.
The back of my mouth is oozing some sort of foul black fluid that tastes like decay. It is the sort of taste that, if you smelt it, you would instinctually recoil and now that "this brings disease, this brings death." Like old blood with sugar instead of salt, like a hospital beneath the clean, like rotten dreams of youth, it screams "I am loss! Your flesh becomes me!" All sane men fear it, and it is the smell of insanity as much as it is the smell of death.
And it oozes in my mouth, unevenly, in fits and starts. I taste it in the back of all my food. At times, it suddenly gushes onto my tongue, and I spit it brown like earth, black like night, all things away, but the taste lingers. It clings like oil. Water is not good. Salt provides the clarity of swords against demons, for this is a battle of faith.
I realize that, if we master retroactive genetic alteration, it will taste like this, and I no longer sceptical. I am afraid.