Stay true to your wool,
so heavy and full,
from follicles born,
and with honor worn,
a horror when shorn,
its loss you would mourn.
70/365
Stay true to your wool,
so heavy and full,
from follicles born,
and with honor worn,
a horror when shorn,
its loss you would mourn.
70/365
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…