Vessel - Luke Staten

Sight unfocused, legs hanging off the edge of the bed, sprawled out and breathing steady. Clutching at shifting skin, places on my surface I can squeeze, the pillowy doughy masses. Adjacent lay the parts unpadded, where bone reveals itself, beneath a thin veil of flesh. This body continues to morph, and with each second the cells rearrange themselves, certain I can feel it with each breath. When my eyes regain focus and I can gaze upon the mirror, I will have taken a new form, and see if this new shape holds. I would still grab and squeeze, pulling excess material to find a desired state, although still littered with markings from old forms. Odd days come with aware eyes, legs planted on the floor, and lungs functioning without notice. Those times are peaceful when my vessel remains still.  

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