Monday Night Nonfiction: the robot

Robot graffiti

Here is a weird little thing I wrote the other day.

the robot turned her head
from left to right.
it is a she because
it is beautiful.
if this was what they called being alive
she guessed
she liked it
the way her metal joints would slide
she liked the whir of
her electricity.
the robot turned her eyes on
and then she turned them off.
the robot turned her eyes on.
and then she turned them off.
the robot turned her eyes on.
the robot found herself a heart
until she got her own
it would do.
the robot said her prayers.
the robot was Very Good.
the robot did a sad dance
but the body said “joy” with its grace
and the robot took flight.

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