I’ve always thought of my body as / I’ve never thought of my body as: 

1. A shape shifter, 
I am loved and threatened, predator and prey. 

2. An hourglass, 
    anything but an hourglass.

3. A mystery, deep as the ocean, 
    only a small part has been explored.

4. A space-time continuum,
    I am lost. never-ending. empty. full.

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5. A black hole, 
swallowed up, never seen again, never existed anyway. 

6. A safe haven, 
    this is home. 

7. A temple, 
    with paintings on walls, some yet to be worshiped. 

8. A thing. 
    anything. everything. 

9. A piece of light, of darkness, 
    radiant, but scared. 

10.  A medical marvel,
    on the outside. Cut me open, look inside, stitch me back up, leave the scars.  

11. Mine.
     and Mine. alone. 

A skin that is not mine, and yet only mine, 
Red, cherry-stained lips and hazelnut eyes,
Blue toes, green hopes, pink cheeks, insides: undetermined. 

I watch limbs move through the abyss of 
bodies that swim through the air, the sea, 
a symphony of heartbeats, mine the loudest 
and the softest, pinpoint mine: undetermined.

suffocating me. freeing me.

I choose not to think about my body / I choose only to think about my body.