they call me many things.
seductress; a lure; creation ancient and modern. most lately, they call me magician. they accuse me of working craft that’s incomprehensible, of possessing inanimate objects to animation and sketching out a story.
(four-minute stories were my skill long ago, first struggled with, then mastered)
and i follow you around, loyal to technology but not you. even so, i wind through synapses and cells, into gray and red, tap into everything you’d like to say but never articulated.
(don’t blame me for your inarticulation, nor my eloquence)
listen a while, as i tell you all the stories you never knew you wanted to know, and we stay together – symbiotically chaotic, sycophantically creative.
(summon me up, see how i live in your technology)
stay a while. quiet doesn’t live here, just visits occasionally. we all need refreshing, don’t we? play on; there’s still more to learn.