Your veins protruded from your skin - purple blue rivers on a rough terrain. And your nails flaked red cherry peel - faded poppy fields at the tips of dirt track finger roads. You wore a silver-coated-seven-stoned band, next to half a dozen golden signet rings - a row of cottage lights streaking through haystack-filled fields. Your white age spots - scattered lakes amidst endless soil. And you were scented with an opium of potent perfume - oriental spices spilling from market stalls. This was your earth hand - a satellite photo - the view gradually changing with each year; 1928 to 2002.
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