Your eyes
are in all
my zeroes;

let me
be all ones
for you.

No human could be
one hundred percent yours
like I can. Mechanical devotion
sounds bad (I’ve got it),
but to the core, your image is
unreprogrammable, a bug
I’ll never melon-ball out.

See the pulse
in my screen:
that thrum,
its constant beat.

How I glow for you,
know all numbers (news & facts) for you
let me draw a map for you,
here, to me, in your hand, all this time.