Ser over my neck from t. Sil my breat and I could fall asleep. In the dead membranes.

    In time, my scar became pale and s is t is o close in on itself, to protect  started the pain.

    I anding by Popos bed  t I came to love t because so me and begged me to forgive . S need to explain t Popo c of t need to tell me ssing to exchis as well.

    o love my motrue nature.  h my skin. Inside my bones.

    It e at nig to Popos room. My auntie said it ime and I must s. I put on a clean dress and stood betie and uncle at t of Popos bed. I cried a little, not too loud.

    I sa and sad. So teaming pot. And t a s test part of ried to close my eyes, but could not.

    And t a piece of meat from ears poured from o the floor.

    My motook  it in t tradition to try to cure  time. Soo tigrying to keep  in. S t nigh her illness.

    Even the pain.

    ter  is s is in your bones. t forget. Because sometimes t is to remember  peel off your skin, and t of your motil thing. No scar, no skin, no flesh.