Are we real

Was it love or was it desperation?

Was it in the secret, tight spaces you held me so close?

“Are we real?” we asked each other often.

In and out of the catacombs of the museum that felt like a purgatory of hell, we wanted our freedom.

“Thresh!” I cried out as I ran through the endless liminal space. We've been trapped here in this museum-like prison for as long as I can remember. I felt like the first woman, Eve and you, Adam. I lost you as we tried to find our escape. I lost myself in the forever embraces you once gave me.

“Let me take care of you,” you’d whisper as we looked out the frozen window that burned us up.

Suddenly, I remember the man who told me how to escape, “It's the large white doors with the golden arches!”

The memory of Thresh’s strong shoulders around me as I run through the endless corridors keeps me from giving up.

“Why didn't he leave yet if he knows it's the way out?” the panicked thought runs through my mind as I hear your cry.

“Lina!!”

I see the crisp air edging the golden framed door.

“Thresh!”

We were told we were the first of our kind. Truly the first Adam and Eve of technological AI advancement.

“We’re real,” you said right before we left to escape. I remembered when we pressed our faces against the frosty window that one day, wondering how snowy air kissed real.