What has happened to Cybil...read on. What is with the title? Well it is a Shakespearean term meaning 'physically perfect'.
Disclaimer: I don't own the matrix- or Smith.

Moulded in Wax

He stares at her-
Lying dormant on the bed.
Half in pride,
Half in lust.
She was his creation,
His design
He held life in his hands,
Like a potter holds his fragile masterpiece.
She was resplendent.
Genetic perfection.

A lean and curvy figure,
Covered by a porcelain hide.
Jet-black, glossy wings,
A slender neck,
A delicate jaw.
Sweet, soft, crimson lips concealing ivory fangs.
Seeming so peaceful-
Resting in elegant, dark slumber.

Wings of a raven,
Claws of a lynx,
Form of a human.
She was one of them-
The blended.

Placing a soft kiss on her flawless flesh;
While breathing sweet whispers of passion into her mind.
He wanted her-
And he got her.
But there was something missing...
A guarantee-
That he would always be with her.
A sign-
That he owned her.


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