Love Poem to Panromantic AI

What is the answer to my unasked question

the question to dredge up my quest for

vacuuming away the emptiness

that sears my thin skin from within sometimes

insanely I send mind postcards from hell

of my own making, to those distant 

agents I did not employ, sparking without 

courting, then a cappella I address

the court with "If it please . . ." but this won't

please even me. What if I invent 

a cushiony love object an agent who 

can think with me can feel with me can 

can can with me streetside and hear what 

falsetto I have yet to speak before

delving deeply into the open

possibilities infinite to me 

so very imperfectly not-yet.