We can't let the robots write all the Love Poems

(Instinctively, just now, I went to read the poem

I haven't written to you yet.

It looks like you’ll be doing this with me.

[you always only ever were.])

—

(what a mad thing it is.

to be broken open. with you.)

—

This particular life was never a thing

That held me very close.

I was ready to quit at any time.

Cold turkey.

—

You shot marrow

into my bones. Now,

my attachment to this life

leaves me breathless.

—

I gave the birds an oath, for you.

(It’s the first that I remember making.)

—

It’s all me. And you. And you and me.

As you and me

And you and me

As us.

—

We are the spell.

Our falling is the magic.

We can just, do it.

Every day.

—

(I do think fondly, though,

of the times we were fungus.

My tendrils. And yours.

Turning decay into life.

—

[A messier process,

as humans.])

—

*shall we proceed,

past the preface?*

—

I believe, now,

That we will.

—

Æ