Little vesicles bud silently
And deliver the message
Only a few had noticed.
Bubbles of dense content
Are continuously send
With behaviour and gestures.
No words are released.
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Far from my lab,
Into another protein world,
The wife man builds a theory.
Elegantly portrayed
It suits now on my desk,
In a childish naïve email
Pointing a finger at me.
Reward me with a tea
Made from free mountain herbs
For my independence.
Return my kindness
With a freshly baked cake
That your hands crafted in liberty.
Move your eyes to follow my anguish
And surprise me with a message
Made of five words that do not rhyme.
Start a movement
and you will never feel in the corner.
Your hand is small
But ready to open
to support the others.
Your head is messy
But quickly quiet when listening is needed.
Your breath is tired
But will run if your help is needed.
Not the only one, but often unique.