A living map of humans, gathered by hand.

Your name, your usual, and ninety seconds of care poured slowly.

The hands that undo what a year of desks did to your back.

Hours in a chair, a stranger's steady hands, and a mark you carry for life.

A voice and a pair of hands that bring a room of anxious bodies back into themselves.

Hair-fine needles, placed by a person who has spent years learning exactly where.