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by Sarah Vernetti

With each day, each task,
A synthetic neuron fails
To make a connection.

A small portion of her automated heart
Plummets to the bottom of her rib cage,
Its hollow thud echoing,
Drowning out the last
Vestiges of preprogrammed bliss.

Separation anxiety is made permanent,
By words that irritated the logic board,
Like the unknowable sensation
Of sandpaper on skin.

Copyright © 2016 by Sarah Vernetti

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