Incubation

Sssaaah

Breath,

khh—hh—

unfurling into sleep,

fetal. Almost.

The shell thickens as

orange seeps through calcite

in pulses.

Warmth gathers,

molten and patient,

indifferent to time.

Roots press closer to their veins,

rivers thicken into dusk,

and the clouds taste

of cider and warm milk.

And the frost stirs—

a promise

tucked beneath the tongue of the wind.

A filament of cold

brings a little light.

The shell does not break.

It cools.

Quietly,

from the inside out.

tik…tik…

the cracks begin.

Caught—

—

Between silk and skin.

tik…tik…sshhh khh—hh—