Body...The case that has been allotted to us.

The first page that every morning we must read.

In all the parts, the limbs, the continents create maps on them.

We take the shame on ourselves.

Just as the well, it takes us on.

The deep, fragile case.

Where the light from others gets through.

It changes as we want.

Its movements, they motivate us.

That motion.

That gift.

That diversity.

That pain.

Beutiful. Pain.

Monstrous beauty.

Relatively treacherous, successfully in nothing.

Relatively beautiful cases cramped by kitsch.

Filled with the everyday`s press.

Emptied with the squeeze through the wounds and mornings.

That envied and filled case which does not wish to be emptied.

And when we move.

It ceases to be or it just starts to be…Body.