Adaptation

It starts underground— shadows pressed flat against the rain-slick rails Neon flickering, vertebrates in plastic skin Wrong side, right time— every mouth, every eye refitted for the dark We’re all cargo, blinds drawn, bones remembering wings Scars where feathers grew Leftovers from long falls, from wanting the sky Terminal branches reach, stretch, break Evolution’s dirty hands on every face Something claws the wall beside me Movements smooth, meant for water not breath In the deep, something wakes, Teeth not teeth, hearts not beating but waiting— Survival’s never silent, never kind, We learn to see in blindness and slither through the night The vessel stirs— on steel veins, veins with memories Crowd noise, but listen: all creatures in the city tunnel learn to reshape— Hands become fins, dreams become warning See them—eyes turned inward, Shedding words, learning to crawl again No one outpaces what comes next Vestigial wings shiver, What crawls beneath is patient Adaptation’s currency, Nothing is wasted except fear In the deep, something waits, Skin of shadow, jaw of faith We trace the spiral, teeth to tail What’s lost survives, it never fails [We’re all evolving, still in the dark Breathing the future, wearing the past Listen—something moves It’s always been moving Under your feet Waiting its turn