Lay your eggs, Nature says. 
Lay your eggs, Biology says. 
Lay your eggs, Fate says. 
You’re the youngest you'll ever be again 
And that's not long at all. 
Not anymore. 

Caterpillars can't see the horizon 
But you're almost at the finish line. 
With only days to fly, 
Your flaps are numbered. 
Wings irrelevant after a single glimpse by a toddler. 
Don't bother to save your scales from a pudgy grab 
Unless you're aiming for a branch 
To deposit the powder 

While you squeeze out his babies. 
You're only beautiful 
So the caterpillars have hope to grow, 
To become you, only to descend 
Into the same irrelevant death after egg 
Lay. 
Still and quiet, take his abuse 
After, before everyone else's. 
Take and Make and Bake. 
What is your mind even for?