I'm jealous of the wind that touches your skin. I'm jealous of the water that touches you when you take a bath, the water that runs down your throat when you're thirsty. I'm jealous of the fabrics that cover you. I'm jealous of the sound that enters your ears, of the ground you step on, everything, o everything, everything, everything, everything, everything, everything, everything, everything. Why doesn't everything have to be mine? Why isn't it my blood that you drink? Why isn't it my skin that covers your body? Why? Why?














