when the eggs are all invisible, we’ll make vegetables and cheese and marvel at the miraculous flavor of omelette. we’ll juggle nothing like mimes and marvel at our miraculously sticky floor.
no one will know who can or cannot lick the bowl. we’ll all die with cake batter, cookie dough, and brownie mix smeared all over our faces… except for the ones that don’t lick the bowl for fear of eating invisible eggs.
then heaven will be on earth, for all the sinners and chance-takers and temptation-makers will be in hell.
and when we are in hell, we will make love to whomever we bump into.
heavenly bodies will look down at the torn, red, satin, funereal gauze that separates hell from the rest of you. our invisible writhing will look like pain.