Thats the cemetry were memorys are made, they are buried in your body. (Written for G.)

You stood with the masses they were you and you are them?

What about the screws? Arent they unique even if all of them hold up the Artwork?

They are the rythm of the picture. And the flower in the picture comes down to you.

Thats the scenery were memorys are made. Light flies from one crack to Another, treasured in the Soul of the Body.

The Light of life in you.

You are flying above all, above everything. You are one.

And the relief is formed in water, which is running out of the eyes of love.

May your Tears become Rivers to flood together to become one ocean embraced by one thing in Common. It's with you! Then now and anytime.

It can never be crushed.

The flower is alive then now and ever on.

It's captured in a picture and held by gods .

A Child of destiny.