Electric Fan

It’s a continuous, invariable cycle:

It rotates its body slowly towards me,

stands,

stares,

and twirls back around.

Over and over,

with a dissonant, electric hum,

until every so often

its joints will falter,

extending its visit into my eyes,

until it tires of gifting me life

and picks up again.

Now it only rests, out of breath.