It begins with a spark,
short, bright, lightning
in the command center.
There is a shock of movement,
steel lips link, lock,
a pop as one lip splits.
They fall to the floor,
long limbs clanging.
Try to find a purchase.
For a moment they mimic
a thrust, hard breathing,
one cries out in ecstatic code.
Finally, there is a second spark,
a grinding noise, metal on metal,
intermittent.
EDITOR’S NOTE: This poem was selected from entries submitted to our Creative Challenge Series #3: Last Sentences, which required that the last sentence in the text must be used as given.
