Before multiplication and division, was an egg.
And, before the egg,
was an accident
(my brother was entirely unplanned).
My father told me that he was perfectly happy
not having a child for several years afterwards
but that people began asking him and my mother
if they were having 'problems'.
So, to dispell rumours, they organized a baby.
I was a fully planned vindication
of their respective virility and fertility.
With so much intentionality inherent even in my making,
it is no wonder that my manner of death
is already being discussed and decided upon.