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I draw a few maps in my head.

First, the feelings, where the characters

probably the most.

Exclamation point, questions, quotation marks,

An ellipsis like this one ...


The other map is the one I saw

in the hand of every tourist.

Full of colors, dots and dashes,

contours and targets through which it goes

to his.


A map of the imagination in which it kind of

through the fog I see and pass cities,

that breathe silently

and only when I close my eyes

louder than the rattle of the tram,

uproar at railway stations

I can hear my heart.



A map of secrets - because each one hides



And lies - such a map is needed

draw exactly so that no one

he lost his way and found the truth.


The gossip map - one like nothing

mother gives birth to her children, therefore

this is probably impossible to close

in size - it takes ages to form.

It is endless and constantly improved.


My body map - reflection

reality so that no one is impressed.

That he could caress me

and God forbid to hurt you.


Map of my faith and map of self-doubt -

still inseparable from the former they go

in a row, casting a shadow in the figure

symbols and signs.

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