I dreamed of rooms of surveillance
where subjected to the yoke of artificial intelligence
all our words and deeds are collected by machines.
where the records of everyone in the country
were stored on silent supercomputers.
The doors were guarded by uniformed sentries;
a group of people were gathered around a monitor.
On the screen, a complex visual came slowly into focus.
I saw my name and beside it,
details of meetings with past boyfriends,
known, I thought, only to me.
