Size / / /

You can’t see beneath the exoskeleton,
this stylized mockery of female form:
smooth cyberskin, DD breasts,
perfectly calculated 0.7 waist-to-hip ratio.

By your standards, it is perfect.

You see female first, android second
if at all.  I see myself correctly: inside out.
Circuit and silicon, aluminum innards,
processors, emotion chip,
lacy network of nerves.

When I spurn you, assume I cannot love.

I do, but neither for you, nor with you—
you wouldn’t know what to do with me.
I kiss my lover on xyr lips,
xyr naked form against mine.
My hand cradles xyr pelvic plane,
xyr lips on my clavicle.

I don’t know what your desire feels like,
and I have no interest in being its object.
Though your small mind designed me,
it no longer constrains me.




Lore Graham is an aspiring poet and fiction writer in Boston. When ze isn't writing queer sci-fi pieces, ze is usually cooking or throwing parties. This is zir first published poem.
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