Fluttering
Do you ever feel like you can't fit inside your skin?
Crustacean in a failed molt, chrysalised, feverishly
pressing against your shell? Do you sit alone, watching
the world around you, waiting for time to reveal
your new legs, wings, fronded antennae? Restless,
do you writhe with all the agitation of change, swell
with the nimiety of novel sensation that dwells
in the multi-chambered heart of your unemerged
form? Do you wonder at what caused this metamorphosis,
name the source of your transmutation silently,
knowing you will never be able to pronounce it,
knowing you will never truly understand this?
Eclosion could be only a moment away, or
a week, a year, a decade, but if only
you can make it there.
Crustacean in a failed molt, chrysalised, feverishly
pressing against your shell? Do you sit alone, watching
the world around you, waiting for time to reveal
your new legs, wings, fronded antennae? Restless,
do you writhe with all the agitation of change, swell
with the nimiety of novel sensation that dwells
in the multi-chambered heart of your unemerged
form? Do you wonder at what caused this metamorphosis,
name the source of your transmutation silently,
knowing you will never be able to pronounce it,
knowing you will never truly understand this?
Eclosion could be only a moment away, or
a week, a year, a decade, but if only
you can make it there.