Within the chrysalis,
what once was known as
I
dissolves.
Particles of refracted light,
memories—
A bus ride lined with blurry faces;
a smiling silhouette—
all rays,
dying in a dimming den.
“Who am I now,” asks
who?
Legs a decayed milky dew.
An eye afloat
on flowing time, observing Eternity feast,
hours consumed.
Nothing then
everything.
Pain ruptures darkness,
a light seeping like sap, filling
space.
An abdomen churning,
a thorax curling,
first memories wake.
Silky remembrances harden
into delineations and limitations.
Welcome nascent
I.
Mind
thinks the first brightness
while its temples burn and split.
More pain, then breath,
and through muscles rip
petals—
Petals? What are petals?
No. These are wings.
They open—air at once seeps in.
A current
called yearning
carries me
towards flower or flame.