A New Face


    This page contains:

    • Disregard for personal autonomy
    • Body transformation
    • Child death
    • Death/dying
    • Suicide

    At long last,
    we have solved
    the mind-body problem.

    My child has a new face
    Something came out of her
    along with the sputtering stench
    of an expiring form
    pulled from a car in a
    weed-filled lake.
    It transformed before my eyes,
    distilled into hers.

    I am selfish,
    all philosophers are.
    Her body matches mine.

    On days she speaks to me,
    we sit in the sun looking at
    old photos; other days, she is haunted
    by grime and green water and
    the remnants of a universal conflict.
    The engineers tell me this is normal.

    How many times can we be reborn?
    How many humanities till we
    plunge ourselves into darkness,
    fed up, pelting our consciousness
    into the graves of time?

    I made the decision for her.
    She takes her first steps in
    a hospital overlooking a silver ocean,
    is fascinated by how her
    new hair defies gravity,
    the flatness of her feet
    I fear all of her is not here.

    I think she comes to me in dreams
    not angry, but asking why
    I could not let her go,
    why her mortality was not enough
    if I know what forever means


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