How high the sky flies when it is filled with winter rain clouds,
I feel like I'm inside an egg.

For some reason this runs my imagination,
to be inside a white shell, elation.

Stranger still is when this shell cracks open,
I can see the black sky behind.

In conclusion it's not only egg I love,
But also the egg's occlusion.

Funny thing it is to say,
I love cracking eggshells open.