At a certain age

We all lose our heads.

They roll into the night

Out of reach

Leaving bodies in beds


When they awake,

The bodies I mean,

They fumble along,


In a dazed inbetween.


The heads however,

Go far away.

Their bodies move about

As they always have

Growing old and grey.


The head never returns.

Out in the world it remains

In the open air

Surrounded by wonder

A bodiless brain.


My head is not here

In these walls so much

As it is out in the world.

Like a child in a store,

I can look but not touch.









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