The body is a map of the pain
whole atlas of continents
macro description of shades
part by part
like you are describing
islands inside you
Bermuda triangles
in which you loose
yourself, the hours,
the boundaries,
and the pain thresholds
like you forget
the routes paths
by which that pain
are moving inside
of you, in the expedition
of conquest
your instant surrender
because you want
to forget it

They say the pain
start from the head
impulse is registered there
but for me, it starts
with headache
to the pain of
joints and muscles
then it locates itself
in the epicenter
left ovary
Seismological reading
of amplitudes
of continental plates of pain
crashing inside of you
emerges on the paper
of the sensitivity
Its most pointed peaks
of gothic cathedrals
multiplicated
without a comma



The higher
the Richter scale
of cramps per minute
the bigger is
the destructive power of pain
which shakes the body
and knocks down
everything inside.
You are hiding
in the shelter
of the painkillers
so all that impulses
will not bury you
all that impulses
after which is
difficult for you
to find yourself
under the ruins
you are getting back to normal
where the body is
not a machine
for producing the pain
and Altakraz
from which there
is no escape.

Every time
a landscape
of distortion inside
total arrhythmia of everything
the timeless scale of duration
without any
event horizon.

And then they say:
“You are so sensitive!”