we create our children,
from metal and plastic and hard work and calculations,
breathe knowledge and life and love into them
name them endeavour, curiosity, opportunity
after all the things we wish them to embody.
we take care of them,
into functioning, thinking, healing,
then send them off
with our best wishes and our farewells-
off into deep nothingness.
they do everything we wished
we could have done ourselves
after all, we created them,
projected ourselves onto them
showed them our deepest hopes and desires
and they fulfill them-
they wake up,
go to sleep.
they find rocks and dust,
they find water,
they find traces of life.
they sing happy birthday to themselves.
they celebrate and show sadness and happiness and fear like the rest of us.
and when they fall asleep,
turn off and never turn on again,
we write them obituaries and give them funerals,
cry over them as if they were our family,
mourn them and remember them and love them
because maybe they weren’t alive,
but they were human,
and we created them.