Incarnate

Organics aren't the saw dust        
of debri, such as machinery        
welded metal fusing solidly        
       
shrapnel excess unneeded      
discarded shavings of scrap      
into the recycling pile      
       
I cannot Love You as she        
her warm-tipped fingers        
permeating heat of her lips        
       
Her femininity subtly blatant    
against your experienced        
masculine physique        
       
Her endearing submissiveness      
to the will of your happiness        
would make an Android weep      
       
But that is only half a dream      
in every human gestates a need      
to be safely had, forcefully taken        
devoured by the one they Love        
       
This is where she reaches for me      
receives programmed strength        
through blood of her thoughts        
       
Submits to sheer pleasure        
of dominate experience      
relishes joy it brings        
       
No; I cannot Love You as she      
her tender organic way      
procuring your fantasies;        
       
I will as me, metallic conduits    
programmed to please    
creating memories as      
       
Her future self incarnate        
in this Alternate Reality      
       
♒♏