That hot Californian model
curvy in all the right places
slender and sleek, flowing without edges
cool beneath my fingertip…
How I like to press her buttons,
swipe right slooooowly,
click her vibration motor on…off…on…off,
whisper into her receiver.
We met a year ago,
but now there’s another—
I never thought anything could be so beautiful:
passion has a retina display.
Now you, year old lady
of metal, glass, and electricity—
though you plead me in your soft monotone voice—
you’re vintage, a trade-in.
Don’t worry, you’ll be
disassembled, melted down,
recycled, and then someday we’ll be together once more
to dance the techno tango again.