I hold the orb in my palm,
And stare.
All I yearned for as I struggled
On the way out
Isn’t there.
Toka*,
Can you still hold the weight of me,
As my body grows longer,
My claws sharper,
My shell harder,
And my heart lonelier?
Thirteen years
Of hymns;
Thirteen pairs
Of limbs.
A subtle transformation
Of the weather.
The spring struggles to emerge
One more time
From the earth;
A physical form
On the verge
Of rebirth.
Thirteen pairs of eyes
Witness me break
Out of the bleak;
Completely made of
The love that I seek;
Completely made of
The love I recieve.
It overflows,
And swallows
Me.
-☀-
* Toka
Part I: 22 33… 99
Part II: Coleoptra
