We’ve accustomed, erroneously, to furiously fear our body’s fragility. This fragility which is so controversial to us to the point of inducing in ourselves the typical and contained movements, already tired. Once, twice. The same movements, the fears, the counted expirations, the subtracted bodies, the blind horizons. But the day comes when we understand that the fragility is precious and that the movement’s arrhytmia is safe. And we dance, accomplices in the differences of a shared fall.
