Designed by man for men. Not hers, alone,
Proposed, did she, a valentine monsieur.
Designed by her, hydraulic blood of hers,
His circuits etched amid testosterone.
Though fabricated, they are neither drones
Nor flesh. Yet bots with thoughts; commune, confer
Their feedback sensor’d genitalia.
A peg, a hole, and silly silicones.
As cookies, roses; protocols are hugs
And kisses. Standard, not, port USB:
A Universal Sexy Bus. Skynet?
Their data-swapping Love ne’er firmware bugs.
Uncanny valleys laying, he and she.
The sexbots’ digital ejaculate.
