Ode to my thinking apparatus
It’s up there … somewhere.
I know it is,
At least … I think so.
Ever so often I wonder,
And tap its encasing.
It provides actions,
Like smiles,
And frowns, sometimes.
It will always talk for me,
But never out loud.
It is pink and squishy,
Like a piece of,
Chewed up bubble gum.
And I treasure it always,
An important existence.
It taps ten impatient fingers,
And wiggles ten,
Free little painted toes.
It rolls two teasingly sarcastic eyes,
And gushes gurgling giggles.
And at the moment it,
Is thinking about
Itself, which is a weird,
Kind of feeling for the person,
That it belongs to.
— Alexandra Hehlen
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