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Skin (Simile (His vest, taut and stretched over
his round stomach like a…
Skin
Simile
His vest, taut and stretched over
his round stomach like a second skin, went slack over the depres-
sion of his belly button
She saw the ridges of muscle on Velutha's stomach grow taut and
rise under his skin like the divisions on a slab of chocolate.
As he climbed, his calf muscles
hardened under his climbing skin like hairy cannonballs.
Her pale, fine skin was
creased like cream on cooling milk and dusted with tiny red moles.
She was beautiful. Old, unusual, regal.
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Raindrops stood out on his oiled skin
like studs. In his cupped palms he carried a small heap of fresh
jasmine
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Touch
HUMAN AND HUMAN
Estha stood close to her, barely awake, his aching eyes glittering like glass,
his burning cheek against the bare skin of Ammu's trembling,
hymnbook-holding arm
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If he saw her, he couldn't feel her.
She could have touched his body lightly with her fingers, and felt
his smooth skin turn to gooseflesh.
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Still.
Skin to skin.
A powdery, colored breeze lifted her hair and blew it like a rippled shawl around his armless
shoulder, that ended abruptly, like a
cliff.
Then Rahel put her mouth on Ammu's stomach and
sucked at it, pulling the soft flesh into her mouth and drawing her
head back to admire the shining oval of spit and the faint red imprint of her teeth on her mother’s skin.
The story of a man and woman, standing together in the moonlight. Skin
to skin.
He sat even straighten Still, he could see her. Grown into their
mother's skin.
-
-
HUMAN AND OBJECT:
His arms had goosebumps where the handcuffs touched his skin.
Cold handcuffs with a sourmetal smell. Like steel bus rails and the
smell of the bus conductor's hands from holding them.
BODY PART TO PART
Deep folds of skin connected her nose to either side of her
chin, and separated that section of her face from the rest of it, like a snout.
His skin between her nails. Estha gave her a Chinese Bangle, twisting the
skin on her wrist different ways with each of his hands. Her skin became a welt and hurt.
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Smell
Ammu was repelled by the medicinal smell
of stale alcohol that seeped through his skin, and the dry, caked
vomit that encrusted his mouth like a pie every morning.
-
-
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Taste
His skin was salty. Hers too.
He left no footprints in sand, no ripples in water, no image in
mirrors.
The cheerful one-armed man with
salty skin and a shoulder that ended abruptly like a cliff emerged
from the shadows of the jagged beach and walked towards her.
Food
Yellow slivers of cucumber skin
flecked her bosom. Her hair, dyed jetblack, was arranged across her
scalp like unspooled thread.
The slow ceiling fan sliced the thick, frightened
air into an unending spiral that spun slowly to the floor like the
peeled skin of an endless potato
APPEARANCE
COLOR
he dye had stained the skin on her
forehead a pale gray, giving her a shadowy second hairline.
He was as ragged as a rock star, but his missing teeth and the unhealthy
pallor of his skin spoke eloquently of a
life of privation and despair.
She had a delicate, chiseled face, black eyebrows angled like a
soaring seagull's wings, a small straight nose and luminous, nutbrown skin.
Her pale skin was the color of beach sand. But her batted hair
was beautiful, deep red-brown.
Her pale, fine skin was
creased like cream on cooling milk and dusted with tiny red moles.
She was beautiful. Old, unusual, regal.
She was a lush, beautiful woman with golden-brown skin and
huge eyes. Her long frizzy hair was damp and hung loose down her
back, plaited only at the very end.
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Her skin gray, wan,
rubbed of its luminous sheen by the neon station light. Daylight
stopped by trains on either side.
Pink-skinned dolls. Rattles. Love-in-Tokyos.
Hollow plastic parakeets full of sweets with heads you could unscrew.
Yellow-rimmed red sunglasses.