It is time.
I have been enwombed like a casted fist.
I am long overdue,
Inside the suicide when spring came through.
It is nearly winter now.
The people go in;
I leach out.
I am something nocturnal;
Phasic, the darkness of a new moon.
I was smothered inside my own cocoon;
A flower doomed to bloom too soon.
I woke up raw and markedly harsh;
Fall swallowed me up like a scarlet reservoir,
And I drowned
To the sound
Of my house burning down.
Where are you now?
Now that I woke up outgrown and awkward,
Aborted from the happy child,
Who thought that life would be worthwhile,
And that winter is simply a season to come;
When I never know what I’ll become.
Two eyes, two ears,
One nose, one mouth
And all arranged
From north to south…
Yet with a subtle
Tiny tweak
Each person’s look
Is quite unique.
The laws of math
Can so astound,
Since all these faces
Do abound…
But combinations
Guarantee
That no one looks
Like you or me.
Except, of course,
When next of kin,
Enwombed together,
Is a twin.
Nature’s works enwombed
gravities' umbilical;
Hold me mother earth
universe sings cradle song,
solar winds whisper… hurry
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