Tabula Rasa

A night of sat-nav
brought you here,
defined by GPS,
you sleep an hour in the car,
and fall into the sand and wind,
to hear the clank of metal,
loose and tumbling around itself.

And now a timer photograph
to prove the location,
of enigmatic smiles,
a tired woman failing on the beach,
to find a meaning.

My head, full of binary and API,
dreams of building you,
from silicon up,
from mitochondria,
to chemistry of mind,
a clockwork, female universe,
predicted in its code and data,
quantumless, desireless,
made to smile with switches,
and maybe me.