Not only is the body a machine that is in need of recalibration every now and then, it is an expressive machine and it makes itself known really well. It has a loud mouth; it is a mouth that is alleviated when its whims are met.

By virtue of its expanse, the skin is the largest organ of the body. When it speaks, it rivals the actual mouth in words per minute, even surpassing it. To think that all this time, I thought it is only the recipient of cuts, bruises and scars.

Now, it is talking back at me in multiple ways - it gestures through colors and sensations. The process of talking back is not one of disrespect, but it is nevertheless an alien language. At times, it is a language that I wish would shut up. On the other hand, can we even imagine a time when it finally refuses to speak, like the leper who can't feel his hand being consumed by flames? That, no matter how hard we try to engage it into a dialogue, it will always turn its back on us?

We must then respect the intricacies of the skin. It is not necessarily mysterious; we give too much respect to what is deemed to be unknown. There is no decoding required, what it wants to say is already there.