Duality’s a myth, physicians claim.
I Am no more than happy accident.
My mind and body work in single frame,
Dumb neurons mark no good nor ill intent.
Biology explains the breathless glance,
The endocrine, the flood of dopamine.
And learnèd
papers deftly prove the stance
That o’er my choices nature reigns as queen.
Yet still I write of selves and sacred souls;
Yet my organic heart won’t disbelieve;
For I have paid these specters’ toilsome tolls
In feats the body never can achieve:
A soul can hold its breath day after day
With little outward sign of true decay.
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