Still

my servants run up and down
up and down
adding then going back for more

my outer shell is too thick
for my sensors to reach
and feel their spindly legs

my mouth has long been buried
under the most precious bits of the junk yard
fit into a permanent smile shape

but it doesn’t matter

she stills lies besides me
her eyes half closed
her limbs tucked in

I can still feel her heat,
from toe to head
and everywhere in between

her lips are still pressing on mine
the taste of oranges
with the curve of a smile

it didn't matter that she wasn't real