For a long time my world-womb was spacious
and I flew.
The world felt me as no more than a flutter.
But slowly the constriction closed in until
I could no more than suck my thumb.
I was a little afraid,
having been born before.
When my world-womb bent toward my expulsion
I was pushed, astonished, out – into the new world again.
The air is cold and frightful.
I blink in the empty, echoing space.
People around me are cheerful,
but as separate as galaxies.