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Necessary Rebirth |
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by Jaclyn Thies
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1:00 |
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I have swallowed my egg whole,
the crushed shell a quiet larvae
pushed down my throat.
The nest is a home. I laid my egg
and made it part of me again,
my eyes like flat stones
at the bottom of an unsearchable ocean.
Notice the nest, the mirrors
of foil and glass. It was hunting time,
the swell of my stomach
chasing me down
through woods and sky.
How I searched to show you love.
How I became villain,
bending myself down toward
the water, seeing myself
in a newly formed mutation.
Do you know what it is
to prepare a home for hatred;
to accept it as your own,
your flock, your kind?
I was given no choice.
That was taken away at the beginning.
Still, I hungered for control,
bending twigs by part,
checking their strength
and their colors,
curling them beneath my beak
and travelling as surrogate.
Jaclyn Thies is living in Lubbock, Texas, completing her undergraduate degree as a senior at Texas Tech University. She edits two university journals and dabbles in journalism.
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