Souls Frozen like Software

Screen Shot 08-04-15 at 10.50 PM

Eun Ji, maybe our soul is lost in time?
Our mother will die one summer
And what will the rain collect of who we were
Empty desk chair, our manuscript and tombs

The scrolls that amounts to our life
In a garden of words dissolved
Our ancestry may never find
Its singularity, we may never have

Our own family, selfishly breeding
I heard once, that the body is
A sacred element of love pregnant in time
Though I suspect we’ll be cloning soon

My father would have been saved
His lungs 3D printed by some technology
Not yet invented, and so it is with words
They change with the reader, like an audience

Not yet born, like an AI that can read
All of our work in one sitting, what would they
Know of us then? Perhaps judgement day
Comes the moment machines can understand us

Totally, from the sum of all of our words
All of our online searches, all of our data
Maybe our soul is just our Big data
Inside my speech are virtual streams
Unreliable grief, vivid memory of dying.

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