Felt Cute Featuring Snigdha Prabhakar

My body lives in inventory and stock taking. Joints don't feel so together one day might be a heavenly chorus of connective tissue the next. Muscles worthy of "See my muscles?" one day, don't feel quite as strong as they should the next. My skin sometimes glowing. Sometimes a mess. Sometimes pockmarked with acne. Every time different. Then there's the knees and elbows that sometimes feel like jellies and trombones. for how weird and out of place in my anatomy they feel. And I forgive them and allow their mood and make-up swings. I'm surprised, and maybe a little annoyed. But I forgive them thier anamolies and truancies.

As for my heart - my poor, dear heart. I expect it to be the same tireless beast that is. That it's not allowed a day of rest, to just be a cardiac muscle pumping away to keep alive. , No, it must always be the Atlas shoulder, holding up the burden of that makes up my world of love and emotion, hurt and prayer and resolve and feeling. It must beat the crap out of itself everytime and come out bloody. And victorious.

My body lives in inventory and stock taking. My heart lives in victories.