egg

i just found you, lying there in the gravel, your whiteness a beacon in the soft grey hardness. in my hand, so smooth and so even and imperfection imperceptible. to slide from such ridiculous orifice into hard gravel and be the inconceivable perfection that you are, you are the sacred and profound. your surface inscrutable, unscribed, unwritten, so blank but on you is written all wonder of all the ages and to my heart you bring such longing for truth and knowing and relief in the unknowing. an emblem of meaning, you will be this perfect imperfection, unaccepting of being merely spherical, thrusting one cheek to state this imperfection but in doing so become a marvel of it. you carry my heart within you, my soul, my mortality. you weigh nothing but are a white hole for the infinite concentration of all light. i will be your cup, you will fill it, all memory in infinitesimal intervals, all cupped, all held, all safe. tomorrow i will eat you, tomorrow i will die and all grief and all nothing will be of note and every tear it’s own interval of memory. today i hold you, with gratitude, for each and every one.