A Lady Larvae.

A heavy crack, the fracturing of my shell;
where I – a small worm inside – warp pinkly
raw in the new, fatal freedom of
inflating into the full glut of persona:

misled by the echo; a lung-less struggle to
indulge completion dampens my wings,
stunted in static awe:

rare kites – mapped with veins – tear at the
apex, hind wing anchored to an abdomen
slit to the hilt, divides the legs & thorax for
a mutated, mortal delivery into a
resurrection damned to the local fabric of
earth.