Colleen Moore had one blue eye & one brown;
the ideal American type; half & half
like heavy cream; whipped & fluffy, admittedly
I haven't seen a woman in aeons,
evolution may have played its tricks;
women may not be anything like I remember;
big ***** & puffy *******, bare down there &
sweet as apricots; that's what I recall
from 200 year old digital files---Marilyn
Monroe & Raquel Welch combined into one;
1/2 & 1/2, creamy skin tanning in the sun
like burnt marshmallow, waist thin as a wasp;
******* stretching to the horizon,
toes reaching to touch the satellites;
eyes, one brown, one blue like Colleen Moore;
like Rupi Kaur, that's all I remember,
I can't recall any more; every woman on earth
rolled into one & crossbred each w/ the others
until there is only one; surviving multiplied again
& again until every woman is that one woman;
the single female form left alive to reproduce
but how like 1/2 & 1/2 she mixes well w/ anything;
when I get back to earth I long to see
the white mountains of her snowy backside;
the abyss of her pink ******'s brown lips---
everything I've ever dreamt of turned to flesh;
every dream I've ever had come to life
& breathing hot sugary kisses on my face;
what does a man know but what he can recall
& I can't recall anything; all I have are ancient
digital files of what women used to be
& are no more, evolution moving on
to explore mutations & genetic fluctuations;
what used to be is no more & what is now
is unforeseen; I'm no prophet but what I think
I'll see will be a female unrecognizable to me---
my single hope that she somehow even vaguely
resembles Colleen Moore; the perfect flapper,
the perfect wife, the perfect *****; if I myself
am even a man & not just the sentient
memory files of a long-lost quantum computer