The count of synapses in my possession
is as close to infinity
as they collectively allow me to comprehend
Such is the limit of my introspection
To attempt to rewire a machine
and retain my identity
while existing in its circuitry
is to ascribe myself the permanence of deity
My infinite (?) synapses
chatter restlessly
wishing themselves conduits
jittering with activity
hoping this incessant need
to foster self-important legacy
begets a spark
that spreads itself like sprouting seed
