"I had the strangest dream—"
And it went as so:
Through my closed eyes, back in the twice
ten womb, I saw blacks and greys and
browns being sewn in front of the
lights. They were removed just as quickly
as they were birthed. And it came to me—
they're birds. Birds only visible behind a
curtain of flesh. Their bodies, feathered
and slick are just heavy enough to instill
a quick death and a smooth resurrection,
just heavy enough to kaleidoscope a comfortable
darkness. And we, the flesh-bags, the"ultimate species" are a
mere mating and creating grounds— all we
are, are incubators.
In through the spaces between our teeth,
Oxygen, out through our tear ducts—salt water and gloom.
