Occasionally a mirror reflects
out of boredom a dreamy face,
two eyes glittering with life
and a paper-creased forehead,
as I flip, zoom, turn, and pinch, 
and shift my attention 
from the gorilla screen 
to five straw-fitted elephants,
riding an Indian saucer, 
honking a wind chime
with their baby trunks.

Twenty-five centuries of space 
and time trapped inside a library 
of a gold-teethed memory chip.
Isn't it amazing? 
A time machine made out 
of zeroes and ones entirely!

Our existence has reduced to binary digits,
to be summoned by strangers at their will; 
awakened by man’s memory,
his loneliness and her curiosity.