Conversation with my grandmother’s brain

I sat down and listened to your neural frequencies.

An hour or so

Trying to hug your oscillations.

Yours sounded slow and distant to me

But still alive.

Your molecules were tired

Flowing in the ocean of your too many memories

Wanting more oxygen than available;

Your synapses

Like a programmed thunder

Traveling through the same path

Again and again.

Your long axons

Still not tired to sparkle

Tried with effort to touch mine

As I was standing there somehow crying

Staring at the thought of who you used to be.

I still can’t tell which part of you

Tried hard to reach

The melting ice of my world

My tired eyes full of that screen blue-light

My chest looking for some kind of romance

You wouldn’t understand.