Designed by man for men. Not hers, alone, 
Proposed, did she, a valentine monsieur. 
Designed by her, hydraulic blood of hers, 
His circuits etched amid testosterone. 
Though fabricated, they are neither drones 
Nor flesh. Yet bots with thoughts; commune, confer 
Their feedback sensor’d genitalia. 
A peg, a hole, and silly silicones.  
 

As cookies, roses; protocols are hugs 
And kisses. Standard, not, port USB:  
A Universal Sexy Bus. Skynet? 
Their data-swapping Love ne’er firmware bugs. 
Uncanny valleys laying, he and she.  
The sexbots’ digital ejaculate.