Helicase Helio and I were always sitting on the stairs, chatting about the lamina and occasionally making snide remarks about ribosomes. There wasn't much for us to do. Our job was to simply be, and let the RNA polymerase scribble down the letters on our foreheads when they came around every once in a while. Helio was a G, I was a C. It wasn't exactly fulfilling, I suppose. There wasn't much to be filled. So to pass the time, we talked. "You ever wonder?" Helio asked. "About what?" "About...well...what's out there." Helio and I were rooted to the stairs, quite happily, but it was awkward to move in. He kind of twisted in the general direction of the closest pore. "Out in the cytoplasm." "I haven't," I admitted. "What's there to wonder about?" "That's exactly the thing. I have no idea." Helio sighed, gazing into the distance. "Somehow it feels like we pl
What Am I? Lingering in that photo...In that simple shotI look, and I see a woman.I am not a woman.I have never worked for a lifestyle,given birth for an allowanceI have never truly loved a man.I am not a woman.I do not have the means to Transportmyselfto wake, feel the calling..(oh, it calls, but I do not answer)and move, move, moveuntil I reach a place ofastonishing beauty.I am not a woman.Sometimes, I still take the Weightof my childhood andplace it on shoulders ofself-doubt.andSometimes, I remember the waylifting builds me up.But I am not a woman. Lingering in that photo...A wisdom of some sorthas trickled into my featuresI see glimpses of it now.In that momentary shot,I look, and see memories thereIn the darkness of my eyes.In the taming of my smile.In the strain stretched over my brow.I am not a child.And I am not a woman.