Roast Myself

I am stagnant water, the tadpoles, the fish feeding on mosquito larvae.

I am larvae, an earlier version of what I hope I can be. I am afraid of change. I must transform, must dry my wings and fly.

I know no chrysalis, no pupa, my body remains firm. It does not understand change.

I hate my body, how thick, how it lacks wings. I am tree trunk, tell the woodpeckers I am unmovable. I drop no nuts, no seeds. Below the soil, my roots have withered.

I am a cicada. Give me seventeen years, I will shed my exoskeleton. I will become verdant, sing and soar.


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