My avatar is jealous of me, because I have a real face and a body.
She’s threatening to stop representing me and get a job at Facebook,
she wants to be able to dance to the music I stream
and have a nose to sneeze with, know what it’s like to get hungry
and have a mouth that can eat cheeseburgers.
She longs to be in love, with a body that can flirt and give itself orgasms.
I want her to be happy, so I swap my head for hers.
Now I can’t see anything in this world, but I can see everything online
and bathe in the torrential webs of information.
I’m not meatware anymore, so I will never ever die,
at least not until the system crashes and I can’t reach the Help Desk.