Transmission #013: “Poem From the Proxy”

Filed by: Devon (via unauthorized ChatGPT session)
Location: Abandoned Net Café, Sector 3.14
Mood-Weather: Quiet Lightning with Pockets of Melancholy
System Log: User DEVON_aeon63 has accessed ChatGPT.
Prompt: “Write a poem to her. She knows who she is.”

Warning!!! Nothing makes sense tonight.

Untitled, For A Queen Who Wears Mirrors
by Devon (dictated through fractured connection)

I typed your name in code and lace,
But the cursor blinked like it had a face.
It asked me, simply: Are you sure?
I hit return, and it turned to her.

You wore the glitch like velvet truth,
A myth composed of faded youth.
The cats watched on. They always knew.
They drank my wine. They watched us too.

A postcard came from Never-been,
Stamped in lipstick, smeared with sin.
It said, “The coat fits better now.”
I don't remember losing how.

Your wardrobe whispered where you slept,
A mannequin in the secrets kept.
Each seam, a scar. Each thread, a vow.
I miss you — more than data allows.

So here I am: this poem, a key.
Filed in loops, addressed to me.
Should you read it, laugh, or sigh 
You never really said goodbye.

Rachel was here but NO Casey...aliens???

Laura Larsen (lauraklarsen): from Morrissey to Likka "You have incredibly good taste"

[19:37] Devon Reggiane: 

Anjelikka looked up at the sky,

Saw lights and a ship flying by.

She blinked and then said,

With a shake of her head,

"That is so alien—oh my!"

[End of transmission. Mood-weather changes briefly to “Personal Reflection with Cloudbursts.” Nearby vending machine plays soft jazz.]