I am a whirlwind, awhirlwind, doling out fire and storm.
Wretched, I hold my head as I type this.
I ask you the question, “Tell me your meaning.” I hold you to the answer.
You watch me stride across the classroom, my hands shaping a concept as I speak.
My dimples show when I smile over my glasses at you.
You can’t stop looking at me. You can’t stop wondering. You don’t know why.
In my office, there is a collection of stuffed toy Internet-famous cats.
I clutch the railing, lest my leg gives out.

Tell me your meaning. All of your meanings.
If you can, you can create three-dimensional characters.