February 2012
1 post
6 tags
Sticks & Stones May Break My Bones But Paper...
Dear Paper,
Your face may be crisp and white (or an array of other alluring colours) but your soul is drenched in the blood of your ancestors. I do not know or presume to pontificate upon why you insist upon having a perfectly healthy, vibrant tree decapitated, dismembered, ground to a sappy pulp and bleached in order to achieve your final result but here you are, facing me with your crisp...