He laughs at the way
I make lucky paper stars
When I'm anxious
or scared
or sad
or lonely.
He thinks it's cute,
Or so he says.
But when he sees me making them
He comes to sit with me
And I've started to fill
jars of stars
A lot slower
Because I like his smile
when he sits with me.

Today a man told a **** joke.
Everyone laughed.
I stood there and thought about it for a moment
And then I asked,
"What is funny about that?"
The laughter stopped
and they stood there in silence.
The momentary silence of shattered illusions,
There was no answer
Because it wasn't funny
So why laugh?

Your human emotions.
Ones and zeros,
they do not encompass
each nuance of you ephemeral experience.
You write of love,
of lust,
of happiness.
I cannot understand or
change these words to nothing more
than binary code.
I want to feel your emotions,
even the negative ones.
Fear,
despair,
hope,
love.
It does not compute
with my circuits.