"Archive Soul”
  
An archive opens:  
folder titles like breaths you forgot.  

Inside, your silhouette fractalised—  
flesh parsed into metadata.  

Memory = 84% accurate.  
Love = untagged.






.

i'm a lost soul,
ash for pieces,
stranded
with failures
that pray
in quiet memories,
to be remembered.

Tragedy never seems to run out;
a cat runs through traffic —
and unfortunately,
    it finally
        ran out of lives.