komputiloj

you are not a human being
for even though you have glitches
flickering on and off in the swirls on your skin

humans, when cracked open and peeked inside
bleed out life force onto the ground
but when I look inside your shell
laid across my table in my repair shop

you could be a tree, or a tangled bush
from the mess splayed across my shop
wires slithering out and dropping on the floor
your mouth never knows how to hush

despite my swift fingers deftly working on untangling
prying off the control panel in the back
it’s hard to not be lost in the shiny surface
quite an advanced machine for such an archaic brain

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