And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairs. My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur.
Angela CarterYour thin white face, chรฉrie; he said, as if he saw it for the first time. Your thin white face, with its promise of debauchery only a connoisseur could detect.
Angela Carter