You pass yourself on crisscrossing escalators, one of you rising to meet the moment, one of you descending into your collection of regrets.
20/365
You pass yourself on crisscrossing escalators, one of you rising to meet the moment, one of you descending into your collection of regrets.
20/365
A version of this poem first appeared on Bluesky. Whispered into the acoustic sensors of the sleeping dreaming android, it prompted the electric sheep to generate one more tomorrow…