A Metamorphisis

 

I cannot see inside this thick, sticky blanket;

Or even sense which way is up or down

 

I cannot move my melted limbs;

As they fuse and twist into sheets of flesh

 

I cannot think of a world without tightness;

Or recall anything but the coolness of Earth sliding under my belly

 

I cannot simply be, without fear;

As strings of silk are wrapped around my torso and head

 

I cannot remember the fables after this;

Vague tales of soaring across open skies, and drinking sweet flower nectar

 

I cannot say this with certainty;

 But I do not think such a thing exists at all.