Potest Ovum
Am I doomed to wander in-between
the passage of a single moment
stretched out indefinitely?
I, the potest ovum, a fusion of you and the other
who exists in name and little else,
would like to know the answer to this
before the final sands have dropped.
In this slice of time we’ve shared together,
I find myself reverse engineering the face and form
that gazes out of the mirror at me.
Am I an amalgamation of all your finest parts?
Or am I simply pieced together of all that was left
of the wreckage of who you were to one another,
a union that was finished before the very start?
All I know is that something crucial is missing
a thing that has no name or form, simply meaning.
From which one of you does it spring from,
and why in me
has it yet to manifest completely?
I, the potest ovum, a mere collection of cells and ganglia
would like to find the origin of this missing spark
that would give my existence validation,
if only to myself, rather than to you and the faceless other.
Hey this is Ava, I've send you the mail, please check it.