How your voice sounds first thing in the morning. Larynx still dry from sleep.

Where your eyes wander as your search for elusive words continues.

How your head will nod to the car radio after a tiresome day at work.

The way your hand maneuvers a pen so delicately across a fresh piece of notebook paper. Or napkin. Envelope. Whatever is in your reach when inspiration strikes.

The path your tears will travel down your worn skin as you remember the souls that are so easily forgotten.