And I, stepping from this skin Of old bandages, boredoms, old faces Step to you from the black car of Lethe, Pure as a baby. — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
“Factor 40. It’s like rubber cement. It’ll take me a good twenty-five minutes to grind this stuff into her skin. I shudder at the thought. Skin should never get old, there’s no point to it. Or perhaps it’s just an… — Graham Parke Copy Share Image
