Before the Yolk Grows Cold

Before the Yolk Grows Cold

demandspacetourism

(Verse 1 – The Germ Speaks) I woke in a womb I could not name, Threaded in roots, in rhythm, in flame. My hands were soil, my breath was storm, And I didn’t know yet—I was being born.

Crawled through epochs, crawled thr…

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