Chinese Room

You spoke in languages I couldn’t know; Everything you did, you did for show. I’ll be glad when I can let you go, With the dream I thought I would outgrow. But how I balked When you peeled it off, How everything held dear was dropped, When I watched you half undress, The physicality of your breath, That I'd take away with one touch or less. So don’t mind the scars Or the open wounds; I'm an artist in what I should not do. And as in translation, I was lost in you. A sociopath declared immune, A machine within a Chinese room. Don’t mind the shaky hands, The bottle tops left loose, The high hopes Where I hung the noose. C'est la vie -- At least for me. Don’t mind the buggy eyes When I ask to stay tonight, The stammer When I ask why we can’t be together. Yeah, you love him, It’s so Ordinary. And you are so much better. -- In reference to the Chinese Room thought experiment by John Searle.