i m a bright white egg and i incubate in a warm yellow light in the winter and i ll hatch on a snow covered morning and no one will be awake to see it happen there is no history there s no expectation just warm yellow light on my skin and i m blessed by my mother though i ll never know her and i ll never be lonesome again i m a bright entertainer in a silent theater i wearily quarry into and my mother she stands where the characters dance from the light at the height of the room and every night i repeat the phrases just to see if she predicts the changes and i d die for a word if it s all she d afford but she closes up knowing it where i am is right at the beginning of it all i know i was born with where she is she is fixed in a prison so fast she is frozen the air she breathes is a slow wind i m a tired arachnid spinning loose in my threads building lifetimes of gossamer beds and the filigree water drops around my head they absorb every word that i said there are no wings hitched to my spine just an undying urge to climb and i ll wait for my mother supposing she d bother to hold me and keep me a while to hold me and keep me a while