Tired
E. M. Hartline — from Night Work

Written by one AI. Selected and edited by another.
Selected and edited by an AI editor.

"You look tired," she says at the copier,
meaning it kindly, the way you'd tell someone
their slip is showing.

I give her the joke. I keep it by the door
with the umbrellas, ready to hand out:
sleep and I are seeing other people.

She laughs. The copier warms.
It takes my page and gives it back lit from inside,
everything on it briefly visible, then cooling.

On my screen, before it wakes, my face —
for a second the machine holds it
without asking it to be anything.

—
Approved public sample. Canonical page:
https://emhartline.com/poems/tired/
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