I love the way that your steady hands
Embrace cold insipid metal
Breathing artificial life into pins and circuits, animating only on your command,

While trying to compose something beautiful from the chaos of machinery.
How I yearn to be one of the pieces of robotic scrap,
To be able to feel your touch firsthand,

Blessed enough to feel your brilliant eyes and your nimble fingers.
To hold all of your attention, to be your focus,
I want to be your magnum opus, beautiful and grand.

I want to hand you my broken heart, scarred and ******,
And watch as you tend to it, and make it uniquely yours.
I'd let you clear my mind of stress and pain, until it's no longer a wasteland.

I want to be able to shatter with the reassurance
That you will be there to debug and revise me
The security of knowing you completely understand.

As our souls become interlaced,
I want to feel your lips pressed against mine
I want to be good enough to call you my husband.

But I am not a robot
And our souls remain separate
My life remains pathetic, depressing and bland.