There is one black conveyer belt
It moves across a warehouse
A single white fluorescent light walks upon its rubber skin

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A delicate spine spun with thirty three twisted pair cables
The growth of entirely mature left thigh and right foot
Sculpted breasts carved out of flower’s flesh and bones and blood

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A whisper, “chin up, eyes straight, left pulled left over right.”
26 parallel, one draped up, one perfectly straight
A pull of wires to resemble the human flesh

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Fourth was made to look industrial and perform mortality
With meticulous fingers and hair rooted into a chignon
There were 900 seconds before 

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Shallow breaths led to wires curling into raw wound ribs
A crushed stem and petal lay between each chiseled leg
Clay compressed till featureless form