after Arnold Zuboff
They made an exact replica of my wife.
Cell for cell, precisely duplicated.
It had all the same memories, hopes, desires.
It had all the same quirks, dreams, regrets.
It knew me by name.
And as I heard it rattling the doorknob,
trying hard to get in,
calling out for me, I held your hand.
Brain-blank and spine-shot,
your soft hand in mine,
the both of us encased
in the white walls of the hospital.
For Better or Worse, I promised.
The You is the Love that persists.
Joshua Seigal
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