Here I am again.

Do I give myself up for other? Do I stay with myself, my experience? I want to want me. I can feel it in my core. Solid and warm. Right there. When I stop and breathe, there she is. Tiny and wild, naked with mud on her belly and feathers in her hair. She jumps from branch to branch, knowing which will hold her weight. She jumps and rests, and feels and talks to the animals. She’s not afraid to look you in the eyes and scream and cry and laugh.

I want her.

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