That Equinox

I’d just begun to recognize

a new layer

of my inbetween-ness

emerging unsteadily,

an egg too cracked

to put back together.

Back then, I was oozing

out of my shell

and unable to scoop

the contents back inside—

the goop of my past selves

dripped from my hands,

they were forced

to begin again

 

This wasn’t long ago.

 

When I first crawled

from my cave

and the allegories

I was taught

about leaving them,

I found life.

On the outside

sat a friendly pack

in a circle

ready and willing

to gather up

my mutating parts

into a bucket

so, they could

hold me