I love his screen-warped eyes,
his rice-paper skin.
these are connections to myself…
moments when we are one.
I can kiss his saltless lips,
hurdle my hands down his perfect ribcage,
hold above me his thin wrists,
knowing that I share in his almost complete misanthropy.
a digital soul… or a human computer?
so random, complex and introspective,
that I'll probably never know.