The moment shines upon the mirror ball
Of memory, those little lights a part
Of what was woven in our neural flows
That build us into who we believe
We are and rationalized — story we
Tell ourselves from all these fragments, all
We edited, revised, the flows we chart,
The paradoxes where creation grows
Out of our complex neural network weave
With which we dance in mental liberty.
Originally published at http://troycamplinpoetry.blogspot.com.