His yellowing eyes strain to see, the mass of flesh that is to become me.
Rocking back and forth singing a song, the creator knits an arm.
Here is a leg, a neck, and some lips, on the floor by his chair a pair of hips.
Flesh and metal, bits of leather, my creator puts me all together.
And when I am done what a wonder to behold, I am a steampunk girl android.
submitted at 9:23pm
9 August 2011
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