You, Robot

Forged in fire,
Not born from primordial ooze,
but assembled in a factory.
Your sharp angles;
your tight curves.
My finger follows the lines
of your cold, steely figure
to the base
where your engine purrs.
You hum an electronic song
and your colored doll hair wisps
in the wind.
You wrap a light touch on my body
Your cool synthetic fingertips
lick the alien protein of my skin
it’s warmer than you.
BTU’s, not heartbeats
measure your youth.
You, shiny metal robot doll,
sound human when you talk.
You, lying in light,
say you love me,
but you can’t.
You’re a program
for me, for men.
You’re a confidence boost
and a steady companion
as long as the program lasts.
Then you shut down.
wheez, pivot, hiss.