Before I could detect it, the roe-underdeveloped-grew.
Like a virus implanted within a safe home,
Between swain and Lady lover late at night, it spreads so easily with the joint of intimacy.
It is an it
Because it has no gender, no personality;
It's colorless, odorless, the noblest gas worthy of lavish banquets filled with petty laughter.
Yet here it sits compressed, heavy at the center of my stomach
Waiting impatiently to emerge with colors and smells and
Every part of me that wishes to explode into a silly child: a child meant to shake the world with
The infancy, the molding, the critical state is now.
Influences of the world determine its fate and where it goes,
The path it takes, how much they really know based on past experiences
Tracing back to the critical state is now.
Enough of this, here, and now; the significant appears only when the hands of a clock
Revolve infinitely around each other, giving time
For millions of small ones to grow and grow up.
Oh! I felt it!
Up and down and up and down it bounded.
Leaped, it did;
Escape, it might if I do not prolong the arrival.
No, th inevitable is near. This young, noble, underdeveloped projection of myself
Is ready to present itself to others like it,
To merge and diffuse among so many, while standing independent as unique laughter.
My darling, that sound made when you broke into this world
Quickly plucks at my vocal chords, presses my lungs and pulls my lips softly to a smile.
No longer colorless and odorless, your presence compels
Others to revel in the 'me' that is in you.
Every nostalgic memory, every joke with a friend, and every joyous moment-
These I pass to you, a torch of happiness.
Then when I hear the last airy breath shoot off forever,
I feel another thump in my stomach.
Luckily, this time, it's twins.