She dealt her pretty words like blades — how glittering they shone — and every one unbared a nerve or wantoned with a bone — She never deemed — she h… - Emily Dickinson

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She dealt her pretty words like blades — how glittering they shone — and every one unbared a nerve
or wantoned with a bone — She never deemed — she hurt — that — is not steel’s affair — a vulgar grimace in the flesh — how ill the creatures bear — To ache is human — not polite — the film upon the eye
mortality’s old custom — just locking up — to die.