A robot
In a swimsuit
Is no
Astronaut
Gathers up
All four eyes
To gaze
At you
Slim as a volcano
Tear gas
For a heart.
The mechanical shadows of
Robot leaves
Hurry on tiny legs.
And of footsteps that fly.
Birds whose wooded brains
Trail into galaxies.
To begin in these cursive lights no
Taller than fireflies, are the names
Not yet in books, proceed.
I’ve enjoyed this very much. The final stanza, in particular. Well done!
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Thank you!
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