Abacus

Using algorithms and calculus

juggling with equations like Euclid

it draws a map of our loneliness

it knows what we desire, what we did.

Peering through our curtains at night

it knows what we have done, where we have been.

Stuttering in patterns of light

it seems to read our minds through its screen.

We know that there’s something divine in us

that we are the flame to its spark

that it is merely a computer –

a grey box that glimmers in the dark –

that we are divine, we contain godliness

but that it is a glorified abacus.