One More Time

the experiment started out without much preamble,

her eyes scanned into a retina recognition system,

and then it was a day to relive the worst day where

she said goodbye to the one who mattered most.

her memories were pulled one by one, like files

saved onto a computer, each one painstakingly

recreated in a simulation that would reveal

every instant of the life she had lived with him.

when the monitor showed his face, smiling,

she nearly broke down in tears and crumpled,

but the researchers wouldn’t let her interact,

not then, and all she could do was watch.

over the span of ten days, she saw her love

begin to repair his life in pieces, scraps of vision,

all the moments that needed to be reuploaded,

because he was just a program, not the real deal.

but when he said, “hello,” the voice was all his—

the him that she remembered, at the very least—

and she nodded, tears building again, as hope

began to reignite in her deepest heart of hearts.

“hello,” she said back, this instance that was more

than just a greeting, a meeting, a beginning—

and he blinked on the screen, asking her why

she was crying, why was she sad, why—

she shook her head and said, “I missed you”—

words that would mean nothing to him,

whether he was a program or not,

but it was the truth nonetheless.