patterns

About the animal in us all. As if this flesh can shrink me down. When you think that desires rise up and take you, as though you have no control. This body fades and so does every other that you objectify. An outline of a person, no soul to be found and you wonder why the emptiness creeps up and swallows your divine. So hard to trust hands and hearts, the meaty flesh that pumps blood in all directions. You pay attention to the shapes and I try to avoid them. Our experiences guide us, and eyes and lips are not all the same. The tastes mingle and getting enough becomes a game. I lose interest in the physical, my body is only a temple and you stop at the gates. I end up alone and feeling better, as though the safety of the room reminds me that I can choose differently.The hurt bubbles, simmering softly out of the corner of my eyes but I know it’s not worth it. To find it again and hear the stories about being human. About the animal in us all.