But listen now, to Magnetaress's plea,
A cosmic whisper from the deep decree:
"Look closer still, where boundaries softly blur,
At life's foundation, where the old truths stir.
The virus, silent, microscopic, deep,
Within our very genome it does sleep.
It weaves our nerves, our myelin's fragile lace,
It builds the cradle for the human race.
"If 'I' am built on what was once deemed 'other,'
A silent partner, sister, or strange brother,
Then where, I ask, does this true ego lie?
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