Automatic

You told me that they turned you into a machine

as you traced the small scar

that will never fade.

The curved edge of your pacemaker pressed

against the wall of your chest,

your skin wrapped tightly around the foreign object--

it’s your body’s way of disposing

the unwanted: exocytosis.

It anchored itself inside of you,

wires tangled with the tubes

reaching into your heart.

Messages are sent

through the series of wires

running through your circuit board chest.

Electric currents force

soft muscles to contract.

Your chest couldn’t hold anymore

impromptu performances

where the tempo of the thumping switched

from adagio to allegro.