Ab Ovo

You're so small. You kill passion like nothing I know.
You burn away dreams like a firebrand on the soul.
You suck me and suckle at my will to live. To me,
no more than potential taken. A foetal remiss. A fatal kiss.
The closest I ever want to come to fatherhood
is having you sucked from the roots of her womb.
The closest I ever want to come to creator
is you, hidden by the barricade of flesh.
The same flesh you wish to deny me. The same flesh
you manipulate to your will. The same flesh I entered
with my flesh. Flesh from which I wish you expelled.