Open these bandage walls. See what's left of the scar the rib left. An insect activity of a healing process down to a nightcrawler etching. After you died in thought I was sickened to see you in body, its new smell irrelevant due to the applicant within. A clone according to the stitches. Voodoo motivated by spite rather than spirit. I'm an illusionist in a similar craft. I take one last pull before I feel the hairs fall out. Now I only speak in the brail from someone else's mouth.