By Armin Forouzan
My body is a two decade old sarcophagus full of experiences, dragging around sublime thoughts of divine doctrine and remnants of the modern slave trade, it works, to engage in society, no, it feeds from life's bittersweet nectar when it takes money and numbers and gives them away so it can eat and nourish its own existence

See, my body is normal, My body is out for loan when it sleeps with women for self-satisfaction and receives self-pity in return for every intimate transaction it seeks and every climax it reaches is actually just an over glorified moment of pleasure it won’t appreciate until this body finds love

Oh, until this body finds love, so this body seeks form by painting tattoos on its surface, desecrating what this body considers natural by standing for what it is not, a media campaign for other bodies looking for representation in a world where sensationalism makes numbers and logic and rationality are fuckin’ BORING

So I look to the skies, Thank God My body is a heavenly mechanism, holding secrets to the functions of universal misunderstandings, representing the world as a microcosm of the universe's spirit, whose reality is shaped by every sexual transaction that occurs around this galaxy, and every time the universe reaches its next orgasm another spatial anomaly occurs, another set of vibrations rock the skies and another set of planets are born, born from conceptual intricacies that flutter beyond human consciousness which my body is a product of

See my body is a declaration of having no rights, and in having no rights being truly free in knowing that nothing can be accounted for, and there is no burden of responsibility because nothing can be owned and if we wish to congregate ourselves around this notion of total spiritual embellishment then let my body be because it is a walking organism, it is a plantation of modern and ancient diasporas co-existing, it is a formal invitation for beauty to shake and hold hands with gratitude, and it is a never ending concept, never ending, because it is truth, in its most blatant form, the coalition between spirit beyond spiritualism and what we understand to be the physical beyond flesh and blood, because my body is an abstract ideology, where the mental meets the physical world and they dance until the two worlds become one

This is my body, a two decade old closet full of experiences and inexperience, a watered down simulacrum of how the universe tells its story, and a message, to every other living being capable of understanding these, this is my truth and though one day the ground will swallow my heart whole and return these bones to the fruit beneath the soil I will be, forever timeless, meandering between the shadows cast aside by this clock, a measure of time, a measure of will, and a measure of my character so that when my body is finally gone, and we sing songs to let death know how much life appreciates its existence, my body will embrace the end of this life’s journey, and my spirit will finally be born.

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