In transience
I chase
Stability
Familiarity
Becomes like my skin
Rough
Like the soles of my feet
Soft
Like the tender insides of my thighs
In transience
I battle
Familiarity
Stability
Becomes like my shadow
Shifting
Like the tan-line on my back
Permanent
Like the grey roots on my head
By Simone Beatrice Naik Noemdoe, 2012-07-31.
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