V.A.

Exo3

The world outside resonants metallic. Its activity humming calm harmonics. I am in stasis. Liquified. Receiving alien signals. Unseen universes translated into sound. Notes bend like light reflected in a curved, hard surface. Sine waves as my sinews stretch.
.
Muscles form and tie. Limbs from this soup. Pain is not the word for it. This flux. I am detached from my body. I listen to it bubble and evolve. Guessing at my shape. Serene. Yet I grow impatient. Anxious to be free as the world vibrates. I have my life to be getting on with after all. How long have I been in here? What will I find when I emerge? Celebrations? Or stamped on like a roach? Will I be wonderful with colour and wingspan? Dancing for a mate. I wonder as I wait and change. Change and wait. Would I be content on a diet of dirt? It goes like this. My thoughts in circles. Dream chasing worry. Worry chasing dream. Waiting to be reborn. Maybe I`ll soar. Riding warm swells on Summer days. Or will I dwell in the dark? No use for eyes. Only smell. Tasting the air for a sense of direction. Will I find myself one of a hive? Or will I remain alone? Expanding to crack this shell. Forcing myself out into the sun. Everything rings different in the light. I am slow in the warmth. A breeze drying my soft skin. Transforming it. Tempering it to steel. Polishing it until it shines. You can see your face in it. But I can`t see mine. Still left to suppose the presence I present. Old friends won`t recognise me. And I won`t recognise them. Remixed, remodelled, restructured. Bold explorers discovering purpose anew. Before all I did was eat. First steps I stumble. Unsure of how many legs I`ve got. The Sun seems to sing her reassurance. Her welcome. My joints clank and rattle. Like those of a machine. I move stiff and robotic, but swiftly now. Here comes the rain. Heaven cracks back to throw its shower against my armour and I feel invincible, immortal. Impenetrable in the private fortress of this exoskeleton. Shrugging off a god`s tears. Blood races. Oxygen pumps. What passes for a heart, this heart, is strong.