In my palm sits an enormous duck egg
I roll my fingers around it, tightly
Squashed in my grip it crumples
Collapsing into itself
Papery pinkish shell and cold slimy yolk runs
Turning into a pulpy darkness on its way
It spreads and spreads and eventually
Finds my eyes, in and through the sockets
Blinding me with its murky ooze,
I'm asking you to guide me I plead into the nothingness
I've eaten everything aside from the liver
And I cooked upside down, just the way you asked
Reaching outwards and downwards until I meet the ground
I feel tiny civilisations below
I try apologising for the noise but
My mouth has closed and I think it will never open again
I'm still clasping the remains of the now empty egg
Warm pieces of eggshell and nothing more
Aged heart under my aged eyes
Assembled together I can maybe make something whole again
But not without my vision or voice