For Margaret Atwood

I am the Xerox machine of God
for I have but two purposes
to exist
to duplicate
As a Xerox machine should
Place your original inside me
Let me absorb it
Withdraw your original
Recreate it inside me
Finally release it
Duplication
But I am a rare model
Limited-edition
Special construct
Most machines duplicate
I splice
I take your original
combine it with my original
Mergence
Something new
Perhaps two or three new things
If I'm tuned right
For I am a sentient machine
A mechanism of reproduction
I am the mighty Xerox machine of God