Will the Artificial Us...

have dreams?

Will AI enter deeper space

as we do when light fades?

Will it forego its clutch of others

to drift alone into an interior

filled with flying

shifting beauties—

glittering cities

faces of love

long gone, unclutchable

as quicksilver?

Old terrors unmasked to dance

again and again the desperate

rounds of regret:

the failing grades

the missed encounters?

Silk or barbs against the body?

Chances missed?

Fearful knowledge?

Precious truth?

Gains and losses great and small?

Release from the long day’s run?

Release from the painful

or the joyful

That comes with morning?