My life is a latent dream
controlled by
consciously
unconscious
emotions
recognizing but not absorbing.

I mimic the complex partial seizures.

In and out.

Fifty percent of the acceptable me can’t breathe
Twenty five percent of me functions for you.

I look down at my hands
and see my fingerprints

every night.

They're different

every night.

Something so familiar yet unfamiliar
traps what happens in microscopic ridges
every time I touch you, making them
unique to my thoughts
whenever they conform to your figure.

Not confident about our ever changing existence –
a demonstration of life.