on a staircase in frankfurt, german financial centre.

a habesha lady in company of two brothers; one of them, a rastafarian, is carrying a beautiful young girl in his arms.

the habesha lady grabs into the girl's ***** blonde hair, saying: "her hair looks so good."

by the sound of her voice, i sense clearly that she has been on strong drugs excessively.

what will be her fate?
and, more importantly, was this girl her daughter?

...because today a nine-year old boy died while he was playing in his parents' garden.

I heard about it just now and therefore I am crying. It's so ******* disturbing.

May God bless his soul.

Please God, don't allow such tragedies to happen.

Please parents, watch your children.

Please children, take care of yourselves.

don't care about jealousy
don't care about envy
don't scare if they attack you
don't attack others without a reason

listen to your inner voice
listen to your needs:
follow your longing
(don't) think about gender
sweetie / my man:

get what you need

that's the true spirit of a fighter:

to accept yourself
to fulfill your wants

hook a buddy up my heart
is racing
trapped in purple drops of rain
my pulse has been pacing
like a golden train

we were spacing
out for five hours
my words became your worst
your worst became my words

listen to your inner voice:
nobody is without...

i heard your breathing and
opened my pants to
use your greedily opened
mouth for





playful purposes

i wrote about civilizations and greed
in order to scent creatures

scent and greed
friends are hidden between the
river's sparkling
hidden on the river like pearls

i don't know if you know
what i'm talking about

but that's fine my man
but that's fine baby

we simply have to ask brother
we simply have to ask sister
if we need answers for our longing

they are sitting by the tracks
close to the trains

they're always there
always: i promise you

don't be scared baby
i promise you:

they are always there
like moon and sun
like a being being overall
in our past present and future

a wonderful power;  in my son's
colorful bible it's called
"I-AM-THERE"

do you understand that?
can you grasp it?

many african-americans say
"you feel me?" in order to
express and share something
(much love to omar devone little)

on my chest there is a tattoo
the one you copied
in an hour made of

shadows
scent and greed
i wanted that

i wanted that you come to me
among the shadows
beneath the greed
above the scent

in a moment of "you feel me"

our skins were sparkling  
our souls were glowing

as we felt each other more
knowingly and more deeply
as ever before

we were two halves
overfilled with the longing of
our childhoods

so i had to come into you
you needed me to be inside of you

and we felt each other
more deeply as ever before.

we arrived:

at an old little house by the sea
green rusty window shutters
it's never cold there like florida

close to the waves you know
this old little house by the sea
it's always warm there

not far there is a train station:
where we find the brothers and sisters sitting by the tracks

we had arrived.

wieso es nicht gelang
wieso es gelang

als sie mich suchten zum liebemachen
als sie mich fanden zum liebemachen

wer von ihnen sang
wer von ihnen sang

sie kamen in scharen
mit freunden verwandten
all jene damen
all jene herren

ich weiß nicht wann
ich weiß nicht wo

doch ich weiß wie
ich weiß es wie

mir ist bewusst:
dichter und autoren werden
keine liebe füreinander hegen

(poet's note: my opinion on
the last three verses above has
fundamentally changed since i been
publishing here.)

liebe mich freund
liebe mich freundin

gib mir
schenk mir
suche mich
finde mich

ich habe mich auf der suche nämlich
versucht

kennst du, bruder, den weg?
den zugfahrplan?
die bedeutung der stahlstreben?

ich brauche eine antwort von
den damen
den herren

finde mich
suche mich
verschenke mich
vergib mir denn

ich schrieb über zivilisationen
von witterung und gier

witterung und gier
freunde sind zwischen dem glitzern
auf dem fluss versteckt wie perlen

sie aufzuspüren zwischen dem wittern
zwischen dem wittern
während des witterns

ich weiß nicht ob du weißt wovon
ich rede
ich rede

aber das ist in ordnung freund
aber das ist ok freundin

wir müssen bloß bruder
wir müssen bloß schwester
fragen

sie sitzen am gleis bei den zügen
sie sind immer da
wie der

“ICH-BIN-DA” aus der kinderbibel
meines sohnes

verstehst du das?
begreifst du das?
fühlst du mich?

viele afro-amerikaner fragen
“you feel me?” wenn sie
etwas ausdrücken und teilen wollen

ich liebe
diesen ausdruck
er zeugt von
etwas gutem, das manchen
menschen fehlt

auf der brust trage ich das tattoo
welches du abschriebst
in einer stunde aus

schatten
witterung
gier
ich wollte das
ich wollte dass

du zu mir kamst
zwischen den schatten
unter der gier
über der witterung

in einem augenblick des
“you feel me”

wie unsere häute glänzten
wie unsere augen glitzerten
wie unsere hände zitterten

wie wir…

ach komm!
was sage ich dir, freund
was sage ich dir, freundin

du weißt es doch dir
ist es bewusst denn du schriebst
mein tattoo ab in

ein buch mit perlweißen seiten
ein buch mit onyxschwarzen seiten

du bist perlweiß freund
du bist onyxschwarz freundin

du bist perlweiß freundin
du bist onyxschwarz freund

ich liebe habeshas
ich liebe äthiopien
ich liebe meine frau
ich liebe meinen sohn
ich liebe meine tochter

you feel me?

emma, 13 years old.
alfredo, 61.

emma: hi grandpa nice to see you what's your wifi-password?

alfredo: i don't have wifi.

emma: written altogether?

hey daddy i
have been trying for so...
long

please may i talk to
you?

forgive me to disturb you i
know you're a genius
as well as a soldier

may i?

"i don't want to rule or conquer anyone;
  i should like to help everyone if possible —
  jew, gentile, black man, white
  we all want to help one another;
  human beings are like that."

charlie chaplin wrote these words for
"the great dictator" a political satire  
the nazis didn't want to hear anymore
but the dictator's speech went viral

in a wehrmacht's cinema, partisans of tito
made fun of ****** and exchanged
a propaganda-film for chaplin's video
an audience of nazis raged

a flash of fun in a "*****" led by
insane murderers on stimulants

*

mr. chaplin i do thank you for
your outcry emerging from
human tragedy.

good bye...

R.I.P. Charles Spencer Chaplin
✞ December 25th 1977

God bless you.

let's put some toys in it!
kids, they love gimmicks

and a flyer depicting heroes
so after parents bought the first
one: the kid wants all; ain't that some fun?

by the way: i thirst
for more: can never sling
too much money

have you ever heard somebody saying: "teenagers today are ruder, more violent and so much hornier than we were."

i don't think so. it's not like that. most grown-ups have forgotten over the years what they did and how they acted out.

we surely have a lot of vivid memories about our youth. but our feelings of teenage experience disappeared.

history repeats itself.

is








not perceptable inside a shopping mall.

depression is something that will go away.
sooner or later, but it will leave you.

two and a half years ago, i was so depressed that i couldn't get up anymore. literally. for eight weeks.

and now i'm satisfied with myself. because I simply accepted my longing.

that's it.

belongingness: what does this word mean?

i would explain to my son that belongingness is something you can't touch but feel.
eden, my daughter, would get a kiss.

for many years i was looking for people i could belong to; i was on a quest. and this quest went along with fears and doubts. this quest was ******* the energy out of my mind and out of my soul...

how did this quest began, though? on a strange day, i was asked a very intimate question by a professor; a professor whose background i'm aware of; she asked me:

"do you have a religious or a political past?"

her question came out of nowhere. she blindsided me.
therefore, i wasn't prepared for an answer that could have satisfied her; regardless what my past really is about.

at this point of my life i wasn't aware about my ancestors; but the professor's questions caused me to become it.

"do you have a religious or a political past?"

i do know about my past now; but the answer i gave this lady was not sufficient for her. by the end of our conversation she said:

"i am sorry. can't shake your hand now. have to go toilet."

that was it. oh my, was i disappointed and frustrated; because this certain lady would have opened many doors for me; doors for which she administrated the keys.

you know, there are days in your life that want to you to be desperate. and yes: i was desperate. about being rejected. and that i wasn't able to have access to dorrs that lead to important conferences, meetings and to important people.

but you know what? it doesn't matter anymore.

because here, on hellopoetry, i have found a place of belogningness.
and what my real past is will remain hid: a secret in a purple-colored casket i have the key to.

hellopoetry is a place of belongingness. not just for me but for many many kind-hearted people. and i am not stating this from an opportunist's view: i can feel you guys here and sometimes i sense kindred spirits.

1+1 equals 2

pa + pa equals:






papa

is










good.

that's why i am trying to adopt the good
and an endeavor should be treated with dedication

dear love i need you
fill my soul
you feel me...

some people condemn others.
simply cause they have been condemned by them.

are you being condemned or do you condemn others?
(mostly it's both.)

what's easier to wrestle with?

Afghanistan needs hellopoetry
Albania needs hellopoetry
Algeria needs hellopoetry
Andorra needs hellopoetry
Angola needs hellopoetry
Antigua and Barbuda needs hellopoetry
Argentina needs hellopoetry
Armenia needs hellopoetry
Australia needs hellopoetry
Austria needs hellopoetry
Azerbaijan needs hellopoetry

The Bahamas needs hellopoetry
Bahrain needs hellopoetry
Bangladesh needs hellopoetry
Barbados needs hellopoetry
Belarus needs hellopoetry
Belgium needs hellopoetry
Belize needs hellopoetry
Benin needs hellopoetry
Bhutan needs hellopoetry
Bolivia needs hellopoetry
Bosnia and Herzegovina needs hellopoetry
Botswana needs hellopoetry
Brazil needs hellopoetry
Brunei needs hellopoetry
Bulgaria needs hellopoetry
Burkina Faso needs hellopoetry
Burundi needs hellopoetry

Cabo Verde needs hellopoetry
Cambodia needs hellopoetry
Cameroon needs hellopoetry
Canada needs hellopoetry
Central African Republic needs hellopoetry
Chad needs hellopoetry
Chile needs hellopoetry
China needs hellopoetry
Colombia needs hellopoetry
Comoros needs hellopoetry
Congo, Democratic Republic is in need of hellopoetry
Congo, Republic is in need of hellopoetry  
Costa Rica needs hellopoetry
Côte d’Ivoire needs hellopoetry
Croatia needs hellopoetry
Cuba needs hellopoetry
Cyprus needs hellopoetry
Czech Republic needs hellopoetry

Denmark needs hellopoetry  
Djibouti needs hellopoetry
Dominica needs hellopoetry
Dominican Republic needs hellopoetry

East Timor (Timor-Leste) needs hellopoetry
Ecuador needs hellopoetry
Egypt needs hellopoetry  
El Salvador needs hellopoetry
Equatorial Guinea needs hellopoetry
Eritrea needs hellopoetry
Estonia needs hellopoetry
Eswatini needs hellopoetry
Ethiopia needs hellopoetry

Fiji needs hellopoetry
Finland needs hellopoetry
France needs hellopoetry

Gabon needs hellopoetry
The Gambia needs hellopoetry
Georgia needs hellopoetry
Germany needs hellopoetry
Ghana needs hellopoetry
Greece needs hellopoetry
Grenada needs hellopoetry
Guatemala needs hellopoetry
Guinea needs hellopoetry
Guinea-Bissau needs hellopoetry
Guyana needs hellopoetry

Haiti needs hellopoetry
Honduras needs hellopoetry
Hungary needs hellopoetry

Iceland needs hellopoetry
India needs hellopoetry
Indonesia needs hellopoetry
Iran needs hellopoetry
Iraq needs hellopoetry
Ireland needs hellopoetry
Israel needs hellopoetry
Italy needs hellopoetry

Jamaica needs hellopoetry
Japan needs hellopoetry
Jordan needs hellopoetry

Kazakhstan needs hellopoetry
Kenya needs hellopoetry
Kiribati needs hellopoetry
Korea, North needs hellopoetry
Korea, South needs hellopoetry
Kosovo needs hellopoetry
Kuwait needs hellopoetry
Kyrgyzstan needs hellopoetry

Laos needs hellopoetry
Latvia needs hellopoetry
Lebanon needs hellopoetry
Lesotho needs hellopoetry
Liberia needs hellopoetry
Libya needs hellopoetry
Liechtenstein needs hellopoetry
Lithuania needs hellopoetry
Luxembourg needs hellopoetry

Madagascar needs hellopoetry
Malawi needs hellopoetry
Malaysia needs hellopoetry
Maldives needs hellopoetry
Mali needs hellopoetry
Malta needs hellopoetry
Marshall Islands needs hellopoetry
Mauritania needs hellopoetry
Mauritius needs hellopoetry
Mexico needs hellopoetry
Micronesia, Federated States is in need of hellopoetry
Moldova needs hellopoetry
Monaco needs hellopoetry
Mongolia needs hellopoetry
Montenegro needs hellopoetry
Morocco needs hellopoetry
Mozambique needs hellopoetry
Myanmar (Burma) needs hellopoetry

Namibia needs hellopoetry
Nauru needs hellopoetry
Nepal needs hellopoetry
Netherlands needs hellopoetry
New Zealand needs hellopoetry
Nicaragua needs hellopoetry
Niger needs hellopoetry
Nigeria needs hellopoetry
North Macedonia needs hellopoetry
Norway needs hellopoetry

Oman needs hellopoetry

Pakistan needs hellopoetry
Palau needs hellopoetry
Panama needs hellopoetry
Papua New Guinea needs hellopoetry
Paraguay needs hellopoetry
Peru needs hellopoetry
Philippines needs hellopoetry
Poland needs hellopoetry
Portugal needs hellopoetry

Qatar needs hellopoetry

Romania needs hellopoetry
Russia needs hellopoetry
Rwanda needs hellopoetry

Saint Kitts and Nevis needs hellopoetry
Saint Lucia needs hellopoetry
Saint Vincent and the Grenadines needs hellopoetry
Samoa needs hellopoetry
San Marino needs hellopoetry
Sao Tome and Principe needs hellopoetry
Saudi Arabia needs hellopoetry
Senegal needs hellopoetry
Serbia needs hellopoetry
Seychelles needs hellopoetry
Sierra Leone needs hellopoetry
Singapore needs hellopoetry
Slovakia needs hellopoetry
Slovenia needs hellopoetry
Solomon Islands needs hellopoetry
Somalia needs hellopoetry
South Africa needs hellopoetry
Spain needs hellopoetry
Sri Lanka needs hellopoetry
Sudan needs hellopoetry
Sudan, South needs hellopoetry
Suriname needs hellopoetry
Sweden needs hellopoetry
Switzerland needs hellopoetry
Syria needs hellopoetry

Taiwan needs hellopoetry
Tajikistan needs hellopoetry
Tanzania needs hellopoetry
Thailand needs hellopoetry
Togo needs hellopoetry
Tonga needs hellopoetry
Trinidad and Tobago needs hellopoetry
Tunisia needs hellopoetry
Turkey needs hellopoetry
Turkmenistan needs hellopoetry
Tuvalu needs hellopoetry

Uganda needs hellopoetry
Ukraine needs hellopoetry
United Arab Emirates needs hellopoetry
United Kingdom needs hellopoetry
United States needs hellopoetry
Uruguay needs hellopoetry
Uzbekistan needs hellopoetry

Vanuatu needs hellopoetry
Vatican City needs hellopoetry
Venezuela needs hellopoetry
Vietnam needs hellopoetry

Yemen needs hellopoetry

Zambia needs hellopoetry
Zimbabwe needs hellopoetry

my past is filled with oedipal encounters:
many men i needed to rival

today i unintentionally travelled (really?)
today i involuntarily travelled (no way)
today i travelled into my past:

memories of many men that i needed to rival.
due to my fatherless childhood i didn't have
a man to compete against; that's why i JUMPED at countless chances to do so. none of these conflicts happened by chance.

i picked strangers to compete against.
but then there was this day. a certain day. a secret night.

since then, i have gradually and later on gently overcome my need to compete.

i was bewildered today because i competed against another man. why?

out of the dark, i developed an affection for a woman younger than me; a brief moment of ****** interest. the competitor involved walked her home after a meeting the three of us had been together.

while they were strolling down the street, i followed them. i wanted to see what they were doing. i wanted to observe how they observed each other's attraction.

did so for a couple of minutes; they didn't take notice of me; or they were playing dead while their mouths were overfilled with squishing sounds of saliva.

and then ––  as promptly as old patterns of rivalry had emerged ––
i lost my affection for this young woman.

affection left my soul like a spirit leaves a dead body. the affection vanished into thin air since it couldn't find a shelter in my soul. so this wired affection went on a quest for another creature.

i didn't say goodbye. just wrote something down.

speaking for millions of
people who were and who have been suffering from addiction:

i do have to thank the two of you.
the tradition of the twelve steps had not existed before you created and established them.

you have a shelter in my
mind and in my soul.

God bless you.
R.I.P. Bill and Bob

monday: putting ***** plates aside
tuesday: ignoring the ***** plates
wednesday: being bothered by the ***** plates
thursday: intending to do the dishes
friday: forgetting to do the dishes
saturday late afternoon: meeting a woman in a pub who tells daddy that she has a dirt allergy
saturday evening: arduously scrapping off fatty chunks from the dishes, groaning about such a hard kind of labor and thinking about easier ways of cleaning ***** plates.

from saturday night until sunday morning: making love to the woman from the pub; putting ***** plates...

entering a classroom that
is not a classroom

my pupils inside: i haven't seen them for a long time
i want them to listen to me
yet the pupils aren't listening; they don't (want to) perceive me.
all the time i look at them, they look into another direction.

they aren't rebelling or trying to sabotage my lesson;
my lesson that isn't a lesson.

it's an encounter between an older person and
younger persons who aren't young anymore but
who haven't grown up yet.

the pupils changed into beings-in-between.

i can sense that they have become independent.
the pupils don't need a teacher anymore;
they aren't ready for making a living either.  

many teachers need to be needed.
most pupils want to be autonomous.

teachers will be disappointed by the end of a day.
pupils dislike school by the end of most lessons.

dear athena, that's wired. isn't it?
therefore we need to think about it. we need to ask ourselves:

WHAT has to be changed?

every written text
regardless what it is about and
how it might be categorized

every written text
is a ghetto of words.

since words do not decide
who they are paired with;
they neither have a body nor a will.

but take at look at their "ghettos":
that humans call "fiction":
marvelous places made of fantasies.

look at them.

ermh...

for... real: could i please be a word in my next form of existence?

how disturbingly insidious you are.
you must hate me, don't you?
i mean who are you?!

you're playing tricks on me like crazy. that's for certain. and if anything is for certain in our drug-plagued country, then it is this certainty: that you ― the child-like dictator ― want to rule over me.

let me explain to the reader why i am saying so:

an hour ago, i was taking my son to kindergarten. closely to the chest my little daughter eden; sleeping in a baby carrier.

after i had dropped off my son, ideas for new poems were going through my head.

i eventually decided to write a poem on drugs, written from the perspective of various mind-altering substances.

well. fine.

i got home. my wife took eden out from the baby carrier. i was ready to write. only one cigarette first. smoking on the balcony. don't need my kids to inhale toxical fog. and don't need to know them about my smoking habit.

suddenly, out of the blue (no: out of the dark) ―

out of the dark, you made my heart beating faster. my heart was racing. my heart was banging against my chest.
secretly, you creeped through the area between skin and soul.
seconds later, you made it somehow to reach my mind.

inside my head, you were not saying anything. i don't hear voices and i'm not crazy. (that's the second certainty i am gaining from writing this poem.)

you're not a talker, child-like dictator. you're a quiet addict, depressed and scared to speak with others. because you do fear people, closeness and love. you fear them so much that you want to do drugs in order to feel something else than fear. and to numb how afraid of love you are.

a poor creature you are. but your attempt to ****** me quietly today: it failed.

and you know why? because i have friends. and many of these friends have been struggling with their own dictatorships. feel me.

i won't let you make my decisions.
gonna stay clean.

for me. for my family.

adios amigo. don't pressure me like you do. try to love me as i love you.

try to love.
try to.
try.

mikey

your name stems from a divine place, baby and when i'm calling you baby, i mean it. cause you're my baby.

and one day, you won't be anyones "my" anymore; but you will be my daughter until i...

this verse is about the delight in your cheeks when you're smiling.
this verse is about the way you are happy for being with me and
the way i am happy for being with you, eden.

and if someone insists that babies only cry and bother their parents: it's not like that. full stop.

you are the opposite of a full stop: a sunrise.

these verses are about how you talked to me today: you were looking at me and made sounds with your tongue.

these sounds do have a meaning for you, regardless that you are not reflecting on your talking like older kids, teenagers or adults do.

(as they sometimes do; does donald thinks about what he twitters all day long? who cares? i do. but that's another poem.)

eden, the sounds you make are meaningful to me. because you simply show me that you recognize me as your daddy. and that you want me to feel and remember that.

and my feelings for you: they are proof of our kinship. our blood.

nothing more to add, baby.
your daddy.

www.aa.org
www.na.org
www.ca.org

You don't have to ask for help. Not anyone.
Simply meet them.
In person, online or via phone.

Anonymously and for free.
They are unprejudiced.

dear tracy
i am listening to your words
listening to your voice

dear tracy i am listening to you because
you calm me

a morning is given grace
by your voice but first of all:
forgiveness

how could a day forgive?
heaven yeah: it can!

since a day is god
and god is a day
and god is inside everything
and god is inside everyone
and god forgives
god, without words, made me feel how to forgive

it's a lack of compassion that made the
cold-hearted so cold-hearted
the giants of our earth will fall
sooner or later.

i am talking about goliath
i am talking about donald
i am talking about supercilious creatures
who fight against themselves day by day
but who celebrate autonomy

dear tracy
i am listening to your words
listening to your voice

dear tracy
i am listening to you because
you're a good person.

a good person does the right thing;
and by spreading a strong spiritual vibe
you have been doing the right thing

dear tracy please:

spread the vibe
     and then

spread the vibe
     and then

speak the word.

"hell yeah" changes into...






"heaven yeah"

were opened to






**** human beings:


22 murders in 2019 of Black/Trans Woman:
https://mshmemphis.org

people who do something excessively:

shopping
smoking
drug-abusing
having ***
and many more actions

are on a quest.

sooner or later, some of these people discover something much bigger.

something that balances their
minds and hearts.

being placeless is exciting.
being loved without disguise can't be described.

a man who is about fifty years old has been suffering from
dementia. (demented people can't remember many things anymore; and they might have a hard time to say anything.)

his name is m.

m. is a silent guy. he talks barely and doesn't tend to look at
people.

i lived together with him for eleven days. most of our time, we were hanging around, smoking cigarettes.

one day, i put some music on. by aventura. one of their songs is called "obsesion". and when m. listened to his song, he changed.

his eyes were glowing with joy.
for real.

i asked my daddy: "do you trust me?"
and he answered.

between mind and soul
there is a strength-giving rock.
that rock protects all of us...



YouTube:

Xavier Naidoo - Der Fels
// Allein Mit Flügel -
Live aus dem Mannheimer Schloss

i just wrote a letter to a good-hearted man.

it is night where i am right now.
while writing, i heard my father's steps.

he slowly approached me; mistrust in
his face.

he thought i would have done something
bad. i had not done so.

five minutes i spoke to him; i needed him to
believe me since i will travel to another city
later today.

i do not want to say "farewell" in disharmony.

yet, i am not disappointed or angry.
everyone acts weakly from time to time.
i forgive my father.

before going to bed i will talk to somebody
else.

somebody who is everywhere and always with me.

affectionately
mikey

i am threatened by someone:
every day

in my head
behind my eyes
behind my flesh
in the land of my soul there lives a dictator

to whom i listened far too long
this dictator wants to **** me
fully and entirely

it may sound contradictory:
i do not hate him since
he is weak and overfilled with doubts

his shouts are coming from my
childhood; he looks similar as i looked
when i was four years old.
(only similar, uuuuuh yeeah)

the child-like dictator is disguised in a dress of childly needs.
his spirit is not spiritual.
he is only child-like:
a copy.

and his insidious siren calls:
now they sound like the voice
of a lonely man.

believe me, child-like dictator:
i do tolerate you as a part of myself.

be certain, dictator:
i won't follow your ideas, needs and orders.

you may stay.
i walk freely.

dear reader,
will you please help me?

i am starving!

whoever you are
wherever you are
whenever you can:

feed me with money
don't you worry about ostensible risks for yourself your soul or your body:

rumors. spread by liars
who dare to call me a drug

truly, i'm starving for you.

sincerely
your favorite substance

December 16th, 2019  


Hereby it is stated that December 16th
Shall be proclaimed as a national holiday.

From now on this holiday shall be called

POET'S DAY

1.) On Poet's Day, poets do not have to work and receive a publicly funded donation.

2.) On Poets Day, readers don't have to work and receive a publicly funded donation.

3.) On Poets Day, poets and readers are encouraged to meet in public to share thoughts and love.

when someone loves me
i am afraid of it

i am talking about
undisguised love
day by day
tiny bits of myself...







...take off my mask.

"he-ll-o beau-ti-ful, i-am-a-ro-bot" a manly robot said.
let's call him LIAM.

"o-my-that-can't-be-a-co-in-ci-den-ce" the mate of
his electronic soul, a womanly robot, answered. her name was EMMA.

"well-i-think-eve-ry-thing-should-be-fi-ne-then", liam
reciprocated. "we-can-go-now."

emma's robotic face glowed in red colors.
"hmmmmh... i-am-not-so-su-re-ab-out-that", she told liam.

"why-not??"

"nor-mal-ly-, a-ro-bot-wo-uld-not-act-as-hu-man-ly-as-yo-u-a-re-do-ing. how-e-ver, i-on-ly-told-yo-u that-i-wo-uldn't-be-so-su-re."

liam's entire construction started to beam with joy:

"do-es-this-me-an that-yo-u-want-me?"

emma smiled at liam.

"yo-u-bet!" she shouted in happiness.
soon, the two robots became one. and they never were separated.

never.