There was an android I made love to
and I remembered how, holding
its perfect body in my hands sometimes,
I felt a sudden longing for all the imperfections,
for the childhood hills with their hidden caves
and the silly girls who went with me there,
and the pop songs we hummed all the way
up those rocky slopes,
and how, in total ignorance, we still
attained a kind of graceful knowledge
of our bodies and ourselves.
And here was a woman that really did
come with instructions,
but the way I followed them
was nothing to do with her at all.
Such tenderness, such afternoons and evenings,
and me whispering over and over,
every name my tongue could sanctify,
none of them her company logo.
John Grey is an Australian born poet. Recently published in International Poetry Review, Chrysalis and the science fiction anthology, “Futuredaze” with work upcoming in Potomac Review, Sanskrit and Fox Cry Review.
Interesting Fact: I have been in every American state with the exception of Kansas.