Dear Self,

  Butterflies and a rushing heart beat
  you've only found in the presence of men
  now captivated by a feminine force,
  a gravitational pull toward:

  porcelain skin
  a starlet smile
  the faintest scent of essence
  hypnotist eyes that keep you still
  lips you've dreamed to kiss

  Internal struggle prevents you from acceptance.
  Just admit it.

Your closest friend,
                                   Soul

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Dear Soul,

  What else is there to say?

  I'm falling for her.

Love,
          Self