(in-prog) you become a virus when you die, didn't you know

You see them you stretch your hands back--
Fucked into your skin like nails on a corkboard are
every word you’ve ever typed
tattooed and resplendent,
staring back at you with faint ghosts of the keystrokes still imprinted on your fingertips.

Pretty soon the concrete rain will start to dissolve into your skin
And the plastic keyboard will eat your brain
starting at your fingertips
making its way down to your toes
until you melt into the screen

(You’ll become a virus when you die
Didn’t you know?)

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Still unfinished...this one is from all the way back in January ;o
(Where does the time go?)