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Mar. 5th, 2003 09:57 amArticulacy of fingers, the language of the deaf and dumb, signing on the body body longing. Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons? You have scored your name into my shoulders, referenced me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks, you tap a message on to my skin, tap meaning into my body. Your morse code interferes with my heart beat. I had a steady heart beat before I met you, I relied upon it, it had seen active service and grown strong. Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm, you play upon me, drumming me taut. ~ Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body
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Date: 2003-03-05 08:59 am (UTC)i looooooooove that book.
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Date: 2003-03-05 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-08 07:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-08 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-08 10:53 pm (UTC)I always think the narrator is obviously female, but then again, I think I'm reading into things the way I want them to be.
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Date: 2003-03-08 10:40 pm (UTC)