My arms are showing.
I wave them.
I lift them.
I cross them.
I show them to the world.
I have been given my constitutional right to have them.
My arms are important to me
They are used for embracing my loved ones.
They are used to help my hand caress my wife’s sleeping face.
They allow me to balance myself.
They allow me to play charades.
They allow me to reach the television remote so I can watch the news.
They allow me to brace myself as I hear about another shooting at a University campus.
They allow me to lift my phone to text a friend inquiring about their child, a student at that University.
They are an integral part of me.
I show then off all of the time.
I bare them to the world because it is socially acceptable to display their nakedness.
I bear them because they are mine.
The constitution, again, says it is my right.
They are such a welcomed addition to my hands and fingers.
I love my arms.
They are purveyors of good.
They are instruments of peace, especially when I lift them and with my hand make a V sign with my index and middle finger.
I will bear and bare my arms at all times because they define me so well.
I will bare and bear my arms to lift my hand and with an outstretched palm motion this madness to STOP.
I will bare and bear my arms to lift my signs of protest asking for more stringent laws surrounding the selling of firearms.
I will especially bare and bear my arms to lift them up in prayer asking God, the Universe or Humanity to stop all of this needless gun violence in our world.
And with an answered prayer, it would be the first time that arms would be used to promote a permanent, much needed, long overdue farewell to… arms.