flashback to the womb

I look up
with lips parted
and eyes heavy
from a day spent
without the sky;
I am taken

pale lavender
is slowly funneled into my mouth,
watery blue breaks against my teeth,
and an umbilical cord
reaches into my throat
to forge a connection
I can almost feel;
it is a power so sublime
that I choke.

too soon
the cord becomes a noose
and strains at my neck
with every step,
every brick
parked car and
barking woman
reminds me
of my disparate rank.

even as I stare at it,
I know that it does not nurture me;
I am too separate,
too insulated by things mechanical and jagged.
instead
I am embraced by a new mother --
one that hums
with the fingerprints
of faceless and sexless
gods. a child
of acid lifeblood
and fluorescent glows