Optic, Oculomotor, Trochlear, and Abducens Nuclei.
Moving in all directions.
Watching you glide from one task to another.
Dilating to allow light in to see things more clearly.
They see you for you.
Tongue elevating to articulate words of gratitude and passion.
Muscles of facial expression, activated to emote the pain, fear, and happiness I’ve felt.
A voice box, humbly positioned, only uttering words of hope and encouragement.
Calloused and bruised.
Worn from the day’s work, worn from the letters written to inspire change.
Saturated with hues of red, green, and blue from the writing utensils I choose.
Blistered from the shoes I refuse to change out of, hoping to dance one last time.
Swollen from walking day in and day out, towards something, but never really knowing what or to whom.
Beating to propel oxygenated blood to all that I am.
Valves opening and closing in a synchronized melody of a musical still waiting for a tragedy, a heroin, a villain, a comical interlude, and mysterious ending.