There is no mystery to this: with thorns
Needles, razor-blades, i am master of my own
Art. triple incision: the translucent slivers
Flakes like fish scales. One thousand mirrors
Then in empty space. Nothing can stop me now:
Not the smallest bead of blood can seep. and
For my safety i pay a mermaids price: this
Mouth is dumb - cannot speak or breath or
Kiss or taste. It is sealed like a sepulchre
A dark and holy place...