Memory Fragments: Probity

Bathe Me, Oh Holy Oil

Down town, there is this hot-springs place. Full of mechanical beauties and holy oil
It is so black, so pitch-black when you get to dip in it, that you come out as a shadow
Also, it is sun-levels of hot. Enough to melt metal, enough to make human sins boil
Exclusive to machines, where they may be reborn. I wish it could bathe me nice and slow

Just imagine the pure pleasure it must be! Dipping toes first, that rapid heat getting to you
As you put your legs in, you feel a relaxing bubbling. Your skin, scouring away in the heat
Half a body in, you hesitate to put the rest under, but you know you will come out brand new
So you submerge yourself in it. Subtly, you start to feel a gentle, blind caress on your feet

Like a massage tub, the bubbles stick in you. They make you feel like walking on clouds
Soon enough, your whole body is covered by them. In darkness, it must feel like a heartfelt hug
And this is if you are alone! Now think about it. The experience of sharing this with the crowds!
No one can see each other, so you can drift your way towards someone and be nice and snug

Granted, they do not know who is touching them. But amidst the black sensation, who cares?
It is a time to let carnal desire take the reins of conscience and let you feel alive and accepted
Therapeutic, I say. A group session to work off some tension, loneliness, and clear the airs
And yet, only for mechanical beings! Though, I would not want to "connect" gears unexpected

Having someone come up to me, without my consent, and them starting to get familiar?
Oh, no! I am well enough when it comes to company. With the robo-chicks that come and all
However, I would not mind if I became a staff member here! To at least be a worker's auxiliar
A would have to play it nice and cool. "Cleaning" near the springs, but careful not to, in, fall

Call me a pervert or whatever, but I just cannot help but marvel at a pretty lady's engineering!
Even when worked to shut-down or forced into slumber, these ladies still live true and free
As machines, that is their purpose. But I feel for them. I can feel their sense of belonging
An acquired empathy, I say. It is not lust I feel. But rather, intrigue in how they came to be

It is said that, when someone comes to these places, it is because the want to be forged
A newly steeled and tempered resolve that surfaces from the oil and becomes the new you
Just like forging weapons or tools, an old piece gets melded into a life both new and reforged
And so on and so forth, I admire what these ladies do. How they live and choose to go through

I admire their physical exert and resistance. How the oil just strips away their damaged heart
Arms, legs, even their backs and heads. Their bodies just seem to me to be their sacred home
A sort of, I do not know, temple, that they have built and worked on. Their lifelong machine art
Weighed against male robots, I am amazed at how these ladies can even tolerate many an ohm

Their output must be through the roof! I mean look! Charred to the bone, and still smiling!
But one long dip in the holy oil, and they are back, in full power, to serve and to be served
I wish I was a robot like them. I wish I could share this time with them. Happy and fulfilling
But time I do not have anymore. I am old, human, and finite. I am a lifelong dream unpreserved

My wife was once a robot like them. She would take baths like this, accompanying me
One day, she saw me in my tub after a long day at work and asked: "Can I care for you?"
"You already do." I said. With her looking and being there, I knew that was all it need it to be
I felt loved, safe, and accompanied by a likewise heart of mine. This, is like my memory's view

After some time, she began to try and dip her toes into the bathtub but, her metal got corroded
I arrived from work every day since then and helped her clean up the rust and grime she had
That was the moment I had my epiphany. A hot-spring like this is sure to cure her toes eroded
And sure enough, it worked. I built it in my backyard, and she never seemed to be more glad

As I tired myself at work, she, too, worn herself out daily by keeping up with household chores
So this remedy did wonders for her! Not only did it fix her toes, but she felt like a new person
Soon after, she began finishing her day with long baths that melted all her aches and sores
All of them, in fact. Even the pain of knowing I would die long before she knew could worsen

Maybe the corrosion helped her maintain an air of humanity. A truth that she too was mortal
But having experienced this "holy" oil, she thought even I would become invisible to death
She insisted I took a bath with her in it. But I always said that my prosthetic would tortile
"What is the human body?" She asked me. "Why does it always have to 'take a breath?'"

Her becoming more and more human made me realize that she did not really know much
And yet, she knew more than any robot I had seen up to that point. She was a wonder
I explained to her how fatigue, soreness, even how laziness affects the human body and such
How relaxation is a form to free oneself from the pains one must go through and blunder

Mistakes are made when going through life. Just as a body is never perfect, the spirit is likewise
This oil is indeed a miracle worker. But it can be too much a miracle if we think of it as holy
Even still, look at them once again. All their parts glisten, just like she did before my eyes
In their happiness, I find my own again. Modeled after my wife, they are truly without folly