Thumbprint, and one hundred trillion synapse man

by Alex Abbott


Whenever I would doubt your existence,
You pressed your hand against mine, showing me
Painful agonies printed on your palm -
My redemption traced in your fingertips.

When I pulled and dialed knobs and levers
To select a new lens for the machine,
I glimpsed a hidden, tiny universe -
Revealed within the cultures of stained glass.

This same hand which arranged a mosaic
Praising the glories of revelation,
Offers sacrament in dye: shed in drops,
Arranged to discover abundant life.

When I rubbed and twisted against your skin,
Each hair tingling, nerves quaking, your caress
Fired chemical receptors in my brain -
Stoking a still more intricate machine.

A tangible impression of my soul
Radiates my outward identity:
The shallow, swirling smudges implicate
My overlapping, pressing desires.

Encrypted in my orderly nature,
Observe the recklessness of my heartbeat -
Longing in ecstasy to reproduce
Your touch, remembering its sensations.

A thumbprint overwhelms my whole body—
A spirit within a surface, a world
Within a world, of its own universe:
A large domain, for such a small emblem.

“one hundred trillion synapse man”

better faster stronger
this structure will endure
but not as it has endured
as I have never stood still
this repository contains
experiences and protein sequences
fit for a life, fit for a deluge
of stimuli and images
I am a vessel
there is no flesh and blood
there is no hair and sweat
there is only an impeccable order
descending through the generations
descending through matter in the limbs of my body
minute insights concealed in my membranes
subtly spawned genetically or environmentally
these handed-down tendencies essentially
compose a parade of uncertain moments
passing unsubstantially
judge me by my activity
coursing through my neurons
the chemicals concocting my pride
the pathways diverting my anger
a streaming tide of unknown reaction
flowing without pause
expanding the caverns beneath the surface of my thoughts
I may not have a direction
I have a cause and I have a reason
dismember my love
find the anxiety which provokes it
you will notice the tension
your birthright and mine
there is a crack and a schism
never relinquish that
that is life itself