Alone
Alone
Alone
At last the nanny-arm unfurled pneumatic hands to envelop half-body in a whole embrace. i opened i to see only shutters, only blades until she took my chin in metal palm and turned it, forcing i to see bright day that crept through window-square. And there, letting go of thin shoulders, thinner clothes, she, the nanny-face then showed me pictures: me. No. Wait. Freckle there where I have none. A smile coiled like a spring. Him. That aching, missing half of me.
And so I grieved. While she stroked cowlicks from my hair, humming auto-tuned notes on notes. The only kindness We have ever known erupted from this fleshless beast of veinless hearts, a cold, square finger upon my sticky cheek. Together, until the apartment shook with closed door and heavy steps, until father came home and i was once again altogether and utterly alone.
