Sometimes I wonder how much of my body is really in use. And what parts do I put away and which parts are preferred over the others.
We use our hands to summon taxis toward us or to wrap around pens and scribble words onto pages. We wave to each other; we ask to be called upon; we wipe away the sweat gathered from the summer sun.
Our necks twist, if we are lucky. Our knees bend and if we take the proper dosage of calcium through daily glasses of organic milk or pills, our bones are strong enough to catch us when we fall.
Some parts I prefer to ignore. Kind of like a friend that calls, climbing persistence into each message. If I ignore you, will you go away?
I wonder if the birds ever question their parts. Do they feel too defined by their feathers; do they wish for wider beaks or thicker legs to stand on? Do they approach each other as though gender really matters; or does each hum and whisper through the wind go without clarification of what they house within them?
We do not have to call ourselves what we’ve been called. Names may be changed and parts may be altered and what matters most is all this blood that pumps through us. And what matters next is that our thoughts still travel through and out. And matters after that is how we feel in these bodies.