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emerging

--mike woj

I am hungry, but I'm not cold.
I'm starving, but the suit keeps me warm.
and the light hits me full in the face
as I assume my new and dreadful form.

kick an incubator open
and like a flower in bloom
sustenance, blessed sustenance
oozing from the tomb

I know that sleeping bodies hide sweet things inside.

and in the ever present light
and in my ever growing needs
if a man should crest the ridge,
he's going to have to watch me feed.

but no one's ever gonna come
and nobody's gonna know
I will sail home again concealed among the upright walking men
to know that sleeping bodies hide sweet things inside.