Their Trimmings

Human, robot, human, robot, leather, bedazzled words lit up in lasers, steel, secret skeleton hands and vinyl. Steel walls, towers, two towers. Neon plays tricks for soft eyes. Each helmet is a hot zone. It’s always summer but never the beach. No trunks, just leather from head to toe, except for the steel. Shields always up, but always grounded, never stars. Robot, robot, human after all?