Brain Diving

In the dark of my skull, we strike the flare

on a lobe—they still burn in cerebral fluid.

The walls light up, cognition and red phosphor.

We came to dive through my early childhood.

Learned behavior etched in bone,

memories bubbling out of pink folds.

There is room for another three decades

of cellular transformation and then decay.

The Times divers clean the family amyloid,

scraping with an old Tuesday crossword grid.

Someone sells tacos from an airstream outside,

wrapping each neatly in imposter syndrome.

It’s the busy season.