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Burnt off my leather skin,
Grew soft like solder;
Weak legs and bent knees,
In worship of water and wind.

This way light would shine,
And fall on my delicate skin;
UV occasionally scorching me,
Eating into my essence.

Numb to the pain,
Emotionally hygienic;
Pain is a cunning creditor;
The Devil and his due.

Picked up the leather once more,
Wore it and flipped a switch.
Having understood the concept
Of benign courtesy.

©HerbertUba

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