The Body's Play

  'I exist, I am Atlas, I exist, I am Atlas,' Sighs the old man's heart, as she pushes his heavy blood through his arteries and down his veins, 'I exist, I am Atlas.' If she stopped pushing, he would die.
   'We protect, we are strong, we protect, we are strong,' Growl his aged skin cells, tied in unison, 'We protect, we are strong.' If they stopped holding, he would disintegrate.
  'I am weak, but I'm still here, I am weak, but I'm still here,' Cries the muscle through the noise of the body's song, 'I am weak, but I'm still here.' He is old and stringy now, but once he'd been strong enough to propel the body through the sea and run along the sandy shore.
  Another part of the man's body was also reminiscing about the beach, 'We remember, but we cannot feel,' Mutter the feet, 'Now we are enclosed in leather, and might as well be dead.' But if they were dead, the old man would be crippled.
  'We breathe, we sing, we remember, we breathe, we sing, we remember,' wheeze the lungs together, inhaling the stale air, 'We breathe, we sing, we remember.' If they didn't, then both his body and mind would starve.
  'I am the best, I deserve more, I need to be, I cannot simply exist,' Chants his brain, a mantra of festering ambition, 'I am the best, I deserve more, I need to be, I cannot simply exist.' Sometimes, it is unhealthy to listen too closely to your mind, old man.
  'I remember the taste of love,' Murmur his cracking lips, 'I remember the taste of love.' If they couldn't remember, the old man would be saddened. His wife was gone and buried. Her body no longer sang the hymn of the old days with his.
   Gone, all gone.