I’m watching the preview, the show
where the woman has daughters. I can’t speak
to preoccupation. I’m the most complex
machine I know, & I still can’t pronounce it. We all know
it’s an anniversary—a swallow, a sip.
Exhaustion, tell me the month. Tell me
everything microchip. Make the spinach leaf
into a heart. It’s a textbook move, leafy green
to thud & thud. You can do it. You’ll do it. Choose.