I am a cantilever.
A marvel of visceral architecture.
A mind-blowing display of elasticity and a blatant defiance of gravity.
A literal refuge for yet 10 more weeks. A figurative refuge forever more.
I house the mystery of Being and Living: in this womb, amongst these ribs, throughout this blood.
We are growing. Stretching. Reaching out.
We are waiting.
I am hungry.