Overdevelop,
Incubate.
Final shell surrounds our planet,
Eyelid shell #1.
Irises iridescent,
Command cannonball pupils,
Fire out!
Attach your leer to the unsure,
Make them certain.

Attack with gazes,
The strong predatory scum,
They deserve a look,
World within a mirror,
Where unsafe,
But within self,
Duality acknowledged,
Attach your leer to the unsafe,
Make them whole.

Entangled in an umbilical barbed wire, awaken constricted, begin to question your own existence. Become self-aware and are born. Senses overwhelmed swings in brutish attempts to feel. Hands ascend automatically to open drought-stricken airway. Hands become victim of atrophy. Ring finger encompassed by moist gape on other end of half-severed umbilical cord. Body pumped with endorphins, stare at feet. Feed feel fingers textured unity molecules to create density. The beauty face blood rush revives tired limbs. Born again, absorb, grow, feel. Feed yourself before the kyfe-cut second slit of umbilical surgical steel. Fragile sun folds free-fall like fountain spring. Sing songs mute monotony, conglomerates contracept kind reception with circling, starving eyes. Planted seed and circumcised in soil, dry and infertile. Filled with saturate-free stills. Murdered mind waits on a wire awaiting several pills. Wake up naked, neglecting contemporary care, shaken. Shun the non-believer so he too is shamed to hang his head. Double-life and surely given twenty he’ll be dead.

Cryogenics cease the very notion of disease. Family frozen in time takes a turn on a dime and divides asymmetrically from ear to ear. The things you’re ill-prepared to hear can have adverse effects. Newspaper dates flip like numbers on a clock. Grow first chin stubble. Double-takes distract from what is felt. It is only what is seen that seems so doubtful, surreal. Watch this population rust its gold-paved streets of wonder. Fight the hands that drag down under. Separated at the shoulder so heads can be alone and free of id’s will-pleasing hands feeding first-world famine. These hands are your own, just as these hands belong to me and are harbingers yet.

You’ll never see the world once it’s burdened with an appetite, lose teeth with every bite, bitter fruit, just barely ripe. Take two tokes from our pitch pipes. Sigh of old days triggers memory banks decline loan proposals. Strip petals from rose, uncleaned arteries breathe with brevity, at ease.