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by Arunansu Mar 30, 2008 category : Life, society / about society
Her fingertips play on my bark, tapping a rhythm I put to paper the sketches in her she makes me circumvolve inside a sharpener, peeling off streamers of sheath. At times these ribbons get coated in a range of colors forming wooden petals. Sure, my epidermis won't regenerate, but she has paid the price.