No Longer Art

One day the form she formed,

upon its own abrupt volition,

warmed and moved –

began to breathe;

what proved in it to be

what we’d call life

began to seethe;

exhibiting familiar tensions,

it evinced a sentience –

and became a friend.

That such a thing could

move toward such an end!

There was one realm of which

she knew, however, it could not

be part. No longer was it art.

.