My hands shake, indenting the lip of the ceramic cup I'm molding. I swivel and look at the other android artisans on the factory floor, robotic hands ablur ensuring each cup is perfect—and they ... [+]
I am a fish with scales instead of years.
I am a snail, body curled in a shell,
Born again every day
From orange and pink dust.
I breathe underwater
I tread on land
I can go days without food
Or change my name to Gluttony,
and the current will still take me on
and on,
and on,
and on,
until the end of time.