..Put your hand on me and you'll see I’m all made of paper! ..See how the letter climbs up on the vein when you touch me? ..Turn my pages one by one and then smell the fragrances between the lines. How does it feel? I smell like black ink, isn’t it? ..Browse me sheet with sheet, kiss me from Preface down and from there go a little further to the left ... Whisper secrets under my eyelashes until page 94 and from 200 onwards wear my dreams on your arms and forget me inside. ..Have not you heard yet? I am the Paper Woman sleeping on a bed of Words, written in Braille and read by all. I'm the bud burst , from which prudish springs overflow...the atomic mass of everything that means “us” together... the thrill that grows beneath the marrow and the sweet lifeblood that crawls through your skin and leads you to nocturnal sins... the comma from your hesitations...the rain on which you step when your feet burn from too much walking through you. ..I’m small powder of herbage madly in love. I’m what's left on the ground, after you've thought to play “miller” with me and grind my soul to the last grain. I am the wind close to your peculiar sideburns. I am what you are for me - basis for my heartbeat and shield against the world. I’m your unforgettable tomorrow, a miracle on its way, a virgin future . ..I’m all you want me to be, and I'm not ,yet. ..Touch me and you will hear how my skin rustles. ..Come on, get your hands on me! I’m an unread epistle. I'm a fortune cookie . ..I’m a white piece of paper from head to toe!