Wish you were a tablet

So I could press your chest

Where that stone heart lies

To hear the truth

When I ask if you love me


I’d use voice activation

Requesting you go to

You’d light up

And I’d say

Do you love me?


The answer would be

“Urban Legend” or

“Rumor” or

“False” or

Best of all



Then, no matter

The reply

I’d get on with my life

Whether I stayed or said goodbye


Rip the bandage off quickly

Tell me the truth

Always, because

I’m beginning to see

The beauty

Of Star Trek’s Borgs…



© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Image: Tanga cyborg heart


Finding no relief in sleep

Fighting the hypnagogic images

Flashing behind my eyelids

Feeling a stranger, sleeping man, beside me

Frightening yet comforting image detaches

From the vivid spectrum


Face veiled

Flight of a

Full-length statue resurrected

From the coldness of alabaster

Fluttering into our

Flesh and whispering

Find your wind rose

Freedom comes

From letting it drift

Forget where it may land


Finger of


Follow it to the end of time

Fleetingly, I recognize her as a

Fantasy resembling Corradini’s Veiled Truth

Foggily sleep-deprived, it is probably part of the

Phantasmagoria that will not let me slumber…

© 2014 ViataMaja, Laminas