Having finally become wise
To mine and the world’s ways
Of all my technological achievements
The one most highly prized
My source of praise
The machine of all my lamentations
Like a son to prodigal me
To count your absent days
This calendar of crises
Interspersed with flashes
Of your calm face or hand
Still holding on to you
As at that first sighting
Dazzled and amazed
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