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Oh but I can't part with that bit of my skin!
I need it to keep each organ in.
But you go on , pretend to look away;
I'll slip in a chip of heart, don't think it'll fray.

Oh, yes, I want to keep that patch of skin.
I'm not fond of dust getting in!
but I'll part with the hypothalamus, there, isn't that rare?
Slip it in your bag, we'll call it square.

Oh, no, I won't let you take my skin.
What will I tell those who peep right in?
Since you insist, you can take my soul.
It isn't all snow, but neither is it coal.

i haven't let anyone take my skin.
Not a stranger nor kith nor kin.
but i have not laughed nor scared nor cried.
it might be because of all the space inside.