I never thought I’d live this long
As a queer,
AIDS or God’s wrath.
As a women,
domestic violence,
if not, domestic servitude
As an Iranian-American,
target for a hate crime
As a ‘passing’ Iranian-American,
a 9-5 life and a Mercedes would have done it
Not to mention —
Let’s not mention it.
I just
Didn’t think I would live this long.
I am reminded of choosing to matter
Looking at my reflection
I see you
scar on your forehead
almond eyes
three little chin hairs
I see you
But does my body?
Does my body know me?
I am forced to trust it
It is the only one I have
But does it know?
Does it?
Does it truly?
Does the body know,
When something is deemed useless?
Does it know,
about toxicity
and the purging of memories?
Does it know,
When I am frightened and quickens its pace?
Does it know,
When to shut up and turn about face?
Does it know,
That love is infinite
but endorphins temporary?
Does it know,
That I should be able to take mushrooms
(at least once!)
And not purge it from my system.
Does it know,
When ‘it’ is lonely?
Does it? Do I?
Do I? Do I know?
What do I know?
What do I know about my body?
This body on temporary loan
This body of autonomous sub-systems
This body that moves
through space
To experience space
with this body.
Does it know,
that it is mine?
But is it really?
It truly belongs to my mother
She made it for me
Her prototype
And I’m going to have to give this body back
at some point.
I just
never thought I’d live this long.
