my poems covered the bare places in my childhood like the fine, new skin under a scab that hasn't yet fallen off completely.
The curvy woman likes to show skin in the right ways - and she should!
It is true that our skin is sort of more or less the same shade. But is it true that our skin color makes us a distinctive race? No.
I thank God who slowly dressed me in a heavy skin, otherwise I would now be dead.
The skin of all of us is responsive to gypsy songs and military marches.
Around your skin, I tie and untie mine.
Fiction is a sort of inter-human magic, allowing you to travel into a scene and feel it tingle on your skin.
He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her full on the mouth. His skin was wet with rain. When she didn't pull away, he took her face between his hands and kissed her again, on her forehead, on her nose, on her mouth once more. "You will come, won't you? Promisse!" he whispered.
The earth is, like our own skin, fated to carry the scars of ancient wounds.
And as a writer, one of the things that I've always been interested in doing is actually invading your comfort space. Because that's what we're supposed to do. Get under your skin, and make you react.
Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly lies to the bone. Beauty dies and fades away, but ugly holds its own! Create and cultivate Inner Beauty that never fades away but grows and matures with Time!
The gloves are like a second skin. They are part of me. An extension of me. I become hyperreal.
