It Seems Like the Sort of Idea an Embryo Would Have: Day Twelve

Today's tribute is pretty high-concept, so stay with me here:

"What not quite realized transit
Of ideas moves wrinkled in a motion like
The cry of an embryo?"

from "A Word With José Rodríguez-Feo"

As you can see, that embryo is having some ideas, which are traveling away from it in wrinkled motion like a cry. Having once been an embryo myself, I am all-too-painfully aware that the question of whether or not we are currently being dreamed by a bear is never far from their larval minds. Note: I added some sensuality to the embryo by way of full lips, come-hither lashes, and saucily cocked brows, because I feel that embryos are often given short shrift in the sexy department. Well, not on my watch, you fucking puritans. Not on my watch.