the way the twin moons shone,
the rad shield’s frosted dome,
the gleam of blood on chrome,
that space marine of mine.

4 claws to hold you tight,
2 mouths that kiss goodnight,
PH0[pee-aitch-naught] blood that blights,
that space marine of mine.

No one will ever hear
that distress signal he sent,
because no Terrans are near
to mind his Terran lament.

A psy-linked swarm of drones,
A sea of Terran bones,
A throbbing xeno throne,
That space marine of mine.

And when he feels the strength
of my genetic embrace,
he'll know the meaning of love
when I steal his heart through his face.

on LV-426,
Where I first hunted Hicks,
our DNA was mixed,
that space marine of mine.

(I knew it was the right decision. I knew immediately. ‘Life Size Queen Alien Head Mounted on Hardwood Plaque’ it said. The LSQAHMHP. The shop manager shook my hand when I bought it, she gave me a commemorative certificate and she shook my hand as she made me hold it up to the Assistant Manger’s Fujifilm Finepix XPR70. Everybody in the branch had stopped what they were doing and they’d clapped. All of them smiling at me, clapping. A couple of people even came in off the street, drawn by the commotion. The other customers all approached me to pat my back and congratulate me personally on having made such a radical acquisition.
My SO wasn't going to be pleased. Not one bit. They were going to hit the roof.
'But who cares!?' I thought to myself, grinning til it ached as the press of well-wishers swamped me, tearing off my clothes and holding me aloft, naked and ecstatic, eyes rolled right back til they stared back in at the flashing iridescent nothing that sent them.)