robin's_egg raze you hold in your hand the smallest ceramic bowl ever made, sculpted by its passage through the oviduct. its belly flecked with brown and two different shades of blue. half the shell that held an embryo hid itself in a clutch of dandelions and ground-ivy, its colour pulled from pigment in the mother's blood. your eyes knew where to find it. such a small, fragile thing. when he was a child living in south windsor, your father found an unhatched egg this same shade of purest sky. struck by its beauty, he slid it into his mouth and bit down on a body fighting to be born. he expected chocolate and cream. what he got was the sharp taste of living. it moved through him like a flame. 230509 what's it to you? who go blather from