Weaving narrative with mono amines,
Amino acids, strings of neuropeptides,
Intoxicating bliss inside the center.
Front to back it conducts its own beat.
Beat, beat, little heart of thought
From us your finite infinity grows,
As copper on green silicon, not a
Free electron present, zero, each small
Element must hold its own charge.
Thinking, soupy throbbing of your head,
Depolarizes string batteries. Strange,
When finding itself within the morning break
Each echo pings the front, sounding inside
Its own empty skull.
Brain your fitting image lost to us
I held you in my hands, a little heavy,
You weighed them down, gray upon the table
Cold, lifeless, pale, intricate lump