i was born into quicksand
sinking slow, back into the darkness
which birthed me,
struggling only to sink faster.
find comfort in the rising mud
or dread the coming night.
embrace its perverted touch
dragging upward, past your ankle,
into the warm bosom of your inner thigh.
baby born feet first: ancient soul,
lost fragment of the lucid dream,
rebel dust speck unconvinced of
foolish notions of mortality & dominion,
declares upon arrival,
“i am the interstellar gypsy
come to devour what you have made of this world.”