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Feb 2021 · 523
World Embracing
Nahal Feb 2021
As I awake,
my lids bloom open
like flowers, like

irises, and pupils
like mini planets.
I have universal vision!

I stretch,
arms extended to either side of my body,
and I softly exhale love.

A oneness of breath,
oneness of heartbeat,
all synchronised and the same.

I run to the sphere, we know so well:
its greens and blues,
and embrace it.
Dec 2020 · 106
Winter Stanzas
Nahal Dec 2020
This is December,
Seeing one’s breath in the mist
In the midst of conversation.

Snow may blanket paths
covering crispy leaves, feet
Crunching on them with each step.  

A fire may seek
The roast of marshmallows
And the oven, an abundance of roast veg.

Hugged tight by coats and
Scarves, and loved ones
Whilst ink darkness blotches the sky by early evening.

This is December,
A frosty cold permeates the outside,
But a loving closeness permeates inside.
Nahal Nov 2020
Sometimes love forces us to create.
Other moments in love, we're obliged to live.
How much can you rely on fate?
Who does that leave you with?

I used to find my mind was a star
shooting poetic verse
at speeds that led it afar,
across the entire universe.

Today, I am uninspired to write a poem
What even is poetry
without love, I'm questioning why I'm

not as inspired as I used to be.
Now it's one, it used to be some.
Love is blind and now, I cannot see.
Nov 2020 · 276
Superposition Synaesthesia
Nahal Nov 2020
Superposition amongst two worlds
Collision of chemistry, biology and physics
An addition of yin and yang
Spirituality
A oneness only a minority craves
An amalgamation of black and brown
Asian strings
African drums
Mud and
Coal
Is that not what makes up our world?
Not trees with leaves of green dollars

Our pain contributes to our art
Two of my favourite songs at the moment are called 'Superposition', and they give me a sense of synaesthesia, but not in the conventional sense of the word. More like an experiential or nostalgic synaesthesia, which is common for most people when they listen to music.
Both the artists come from a background different to the country they were born in. I recognise how I always try to make my accent pronounced when I am in unfamiliar territory, or if I feel like I want to be accepted. It is an interesting concept to consider.
I am reflecting a lot on what it means to be a minority by appearance, being Black or Asian in today's world even if you are born in a dominant first-world country. I am Iranian by ethnicity, but do I still fit in? I believe deeply in the oneness of humanity, and it's often minorities who desire that more than those who already have a sense of belonging.
Nov 2020 · 105
Autumn Sonnet
Nahal Nov 2020
A blue bicycle along some leaves
bright and sunny coloured
crunching along the grey path, a duller
tone. It is autumn fall as life leaves.

It returns to us, however,
as nature's boomerang:
as the sky cries, as the wind sang.
What is love, if not a sudden onset fever?

Our vision becomes clouded
like the morning fog,
tears fall and rosy cheeks become crowded.

An incontrollable sobbing, at rock bottom
until we reach that point shrouded
beneath the soil, becoming one with autumn.
Sep 2020 · 105
The Story of Painting
Nahal Sep 2020
The longing to receive feelings, the canvas craved
a mishmash of personality and purple anxiety.
Prime colours meeting new tones
smudged over palm and fingernails.

Back and forth from the murky water,
brushing intimate with the whiteness,
forging a new two-dimensional genesis.

The face became asymmetrical of
a female ethereal figure
surrounded by deep green, full-of-life leaves.
The purple surrounded her,
consuming her growth and trying to contain it.
It became the backdrop for her life.
This spiralling out-of-control thoughtlessness
this, in fact, deep rumination and self-destruction.

Sat painting for hours...

Paint all over hands, clothes, and sofa...

The backdrop of her life...

The backdrop of my life...
Nahal Aug 2020
Look how the trees
Are bullied by the wind
But they still stand tall and firm
Aug 2020 · 134
A Spike Lee Joint
Nahal Aug 2020
My eyes were closed shut
As I awoke
I smoked a metaphorical ****
of a Spike Lee Joint

I interpreted the depths of meaning
Scary reality
The errors of humanity
In the form of a feature film

Portrayal after portrayal
Non-minstrel, realistic black lives
Race-relation vibes
A voice for the underrepresented

Lee makes you want to use your voice
For the betterment of the world
Development of how we want our history to unfurl
Black lives matter still
Lately I've been becoming more and more obsessed with the works of screenwriter and director Spike Lee. His movies are a true portrayal of black lives in the US and the daily issues that are faced by this misrepresented community. His movies started out in the eighties but are relevant today regarding the discourses on the blacklivesmatter movement. It has a daily relevance. I love Lee for his ability to render meaning into his work but give us a taste of daily reality and simultaneously question one's role and responsibility in race relations in all societies.
Jul 2020 · 115
The Poem's Ego
Nahal Jul 2020
If I pour the entirety of self into a poem
Does it give the poem an ego?

If I pour nothing into it
Does it mean it's superficial?
Jul 2020 · 90
Love Sonnet on Visibility
Nahal Jul 2020
The invisibility is suffocating
It's a tight mask or a dark smog floating around
Forcibly bound and stuck to the ground
How can one be down to earth when the nettles are stinging?

Love was supposed to create visibility
To show everything
To stop the quiet speaking and let thoughts loudly sing
To make comfortable the feelings of vulnerability

The heart knows
And every time it remembers it falls into bits
Hitting the floor, experiencing the blows

I wanted to be your visible, I want to be a piece that fits
Nothing of your life shows
That I am in it, that I am in it...
Jun 2020 · 107
I
Nahal Jun 2020
I
This sapling is being propagated
Pulled out of the dried soil with its roots naked and visible
Held up in the light
Now it's becoming too tall for its small terracotta ***
It needs fresh soil
Nutrition to grow it taller
To make it stronger
To make its roots deeper
A never ending story of growth
Quite close to only the beginning
Nahal May 2020
I'm stuck.
The tears I cry
don't turn into gold.

Kintsugi
I thought if I was broken
I would be replaced with gold.

Selfish earthly tears
state of emergency
more like sterling silver than nine carat gold.

Films romanticise tears
only on beautiful faces
Oscars and Golden Globes.
Nahal Apr 2020
Today,
and only today,
I've learnt to love the rain.

Sunshine,
was my best friend,
warming my skin and darkening its pigment.

The moon,
had its cratered imperfections,
but ultimately, was a guardian of safety as it lit up the night.

Rain,
my least favourite of them all,
made my clothes smell of damp and ruined my mood.

Now,
I appreciate that
it cleans
showers
beautifies
and adorns our world
it provides the air with a fresh smell
maintains the beautiful flowers
and the grass' greenness.

How could I have ever hated the rain?

So happy,
oh so happy am I,
to have learnt to love the rain.
Apr 2020 · 83
It's Racing Again
Nahal Apr 2020
In moments of almost silence
the only certain sound is the buzzing of my fridge
and as the buzzing gets louder
and the flesh ***** so well-known for pumping me lifeblood
is draining life out of me

It's racing again

My eyes feel heavy
layers of light eyeshadow at the centres of my eyes
glittery and highlighting
highlighting that this whole thing is becoming society's cliche
in my head
it's all in my head

It's racing again

Until the calm comes
counting can't console me
and
nor can you
you're trying
I see you

it's racing again
it's just got to pass

pass

please pass
Mar 2020 · 99
Word Sizes
Nahal Mar 2020
Despite letters appearing the same size on a screen
The size in terms of profundity of a word
Differs completely

A short word
It can carry so much more weight
Than a long word, metaphysically

Love for example
Its meaning infinite
As it binds peoples, universes

God for example
Obviously starkly contrasting for everyone
But its meaning inexplicable

True for example
What does one know
Truth is one, therefore complex
Jan 2020 · 80
A Memorable Moment
Nahal Jan 2020
Hands are the body's warm greeting
they direct and show and tell
I watch his
as they turn the pages very well

I'm laying down
head on his lap
no sight of his head, nor his torso
I'm turned away and there's a ****** gap

Projecting unfocused black and white images
on the wall of my bedroom
a caress, murmuring, a conversation
and he'll be gone soon

His hands motion his emotions
the page-turning incessant
light from the projection and cheap scented candles
highlighting flesh, bone, and incandescence

I am a director of this seeming aesthetic film
the script is unfinished
without delving too deeply into this memorable moment
the self is being diminished
Jan 2020 · 86
I Need You
Nahal Jan 2020
It's fuzzy in my mind
I need you
My thoughts are racing
I need you
You are so kind
I need you
I miss embracing
I need you

Water trickles from my eyes
I need you
The water flows increasingly
I need you
I fail when I try
I need you
Thoughts start to firework unceasingly
I need you

Who do I need?
I need you
Is it me or you?
I need you
What we think we need
I need you
Who am I talking to?
I need you

My corpse-like body is heavy and hollow
I needed you
I still would if I were here to follow
Give me a hug, a kiss, a something true.
Nahal Jan 2020
The women I know
and their nostalgia.

The traditional habits of immigrant women
culture gleaning from their pupils
a yearning to go home
language beckoning from their tongues
past their turmeric teeth

These are homemade women
I love and admire them
their history has made today stunning and golden
I am the admiring sunflower and they are the sun

Together let's warm up leftovers
and eat them for breakfast
Nahal Oct 2019
She understood
Twisting the rusty tap
Trickling water to sprinting flow
Woooosshhhhh
Gravity pulls the earth's hydration intently with purpose
The tub fills to the brim
You pour a coconut-smelling, cheap bodywash
Not even bath gel
It foams and bubbles
Shiny, sparkly, spherical
You're now eight again
Excited by novel luxuries

Room temperature vs the bath water
Your foot burns as you put it in
Acclimatise foot, acclimatise
And now the total dip
The complete embrace of hot water

"The longer I lay there in the clear hot water the purer I felt"
From the Bell Jar
I relate
Oct 2019 · 106
Humanitree
Nahal Oct 2019
To be human means
to be hideously capable
to grow like nature
but to never stop.
Oct 2019 · 114
HeritAge
Nahal Oct 2019
We are children of migrants
Sitting still on the shoulders of giants
Their sway, far movements, trials
Ancestry in homelands from distant miles
Holding onto their language and their culture
Losing parts but finding a juncture
Between the old and the new
Naturally forming dual identities too
My name has a meaning
Your lack of effort to pronounce it is demeaning
The more impersonal we become
We only leave but a crumb
A trace of our heritage
The consequence of parentage
Oct 2019 · 126
Even More People
Nahal Oct 2019
Ten
You and I had a start
And now a history  
Your irises reflect mine
Chocolate brown mystery
Soya chocolate milk
Don't be sad, promise
me you'll try not to be
Here you can find solace

Eleven
Uhhh
Sep 2019 · 121
Seventh of September
Nahal Sep 2019
Time slows down.
My heart
in my mouth.
My stomach
a host to the biggest butterflies,
with enormous wings.
Flutter, flutter.
Painful and love sick,
not going to lie.

I can't tell you, though.
Aug 2019 · 327
I miss poetry
Nahal Aug 2019
I miss the sound of typing on the Mac keyboard
I miss the serif font of the words I observe on the screen
I miss the fluidity of which the words flow out of my mind like seamless fountain water
I miss the inspiration from a deep love
I miss insomniac nights, with bright Apple lights
I miss creative expression
I miss thesaurus searches and RhymeZone
I miss lyrics from frank songs
I miss rhythm and blues background music
[Unfinished]
Aug 2019 · 87
More People
Nahal Aug 2019
Seven
There's a yearning for love
A soul's peace you cannot find
In your night escapades
If you talk to me, we'll explore your mind

Eight
You are a breath of fresh air
Oxygenated, pure, sweet-smelling
A bountiful positive force in my life
Highest vibration of energy dwelling,
And lingering in my head
Jul 2019 · 239
Mindful / Mindless
Nahal Jul 2019
Shut your eyes.
He's late, surprise surprise.

Try to pray.
He's gone how many days?

Breathe and meditate.
Forget the date.

Walk slow and observe.
Is he what I deserve?

Don't think about reality.
Did he make a pass at me?

Heart rate drop.
Arrive at the shop.

Think deeply.
Shop cheaply.

Peace within.
Put out the bins.

Be present.
Feeling really absent.

Speak gentle.
Am I mental?

Spiritual.
Experienced through material.
The purpose of this poem is to represent a paradoxical life. Attempting to be mindful in a world where it can seem inherently mindless. You can choose to read this poem as merely mindful, by focusing on the first lines of each stanza, or merely mindless, by focusing on the second. It reads very differently each time.
Jul 2019 · 177
Amores pasados
Nahal Jul 2019
Siempre regreso a la poesía
La lengua no me importa
Solamente la habilidad de expresarme
Honestamente, sin prejuicio
Mi amor por él es imposible describir
Mi mente siente locisíma
Jul 2019 · 173
In The Very Beginning
Nahal Jul 2019
In the very beginning,
my heart was on show but it
was actually covered
by an unsanctified dust.

In the very beginning,
I wasn't "feeling it" much.
Your eyes beamed whenever you
saw me. I felt it. I trust.

In the very beginning,
we spoke Frank truths so
don't expect Amy Winehouse
type level dedicated.

In the very beginning,
the music you played made me
nostalgic of past lovers:
our hearts left syncopated.

In the very beginning,
I was so attached to me
I smelt the selfishness from
my natural pheromones.

In the very beginning,
you walked so far ahead that
I got frustrated. A way
to see and hear how I moaned.

In the very beginning,
I definitely didn't
feel your soul as I do now.
Every pure inch of you.

In the very beginning,
it was quite different to
the very now. I wish you
the very best. Life anew.
Seven syllable thoughts, rhyming at the end of each couple stanzas. A reflection on a recent experience.
Jul 2019 · 178
Soul Food
Nahal Jul 2019
Spending every moment of the day with you
would be quite tiresome
exhausting my soul to the point of starvation

I am in need of a spiritual nourishment
a nourishment that strengthens me
feels as healthy as a vegan dhal on a Saturday afternoon
Jul 2019 · 108
The Waterfall Adventure
Nahal Jul 2019
I'm walking snail-like and steadily
from rock to rock,
pebble to pebble,
aiming not to fall flat on my face

A friend holds out their vein-laden hand,
and another holds their their back strong
I grasp on tightly
pushing my palms into the muscles of their shoulders
and clenching the assertiveness out of each finger

Supportive, marble statue friends
I am as a test for them to help me waddle
across nature's obstacle course
to the beautiful, bountiful waterfall across the seemingly small stream

I can't tiptoe
I want to dip my toes in
I want to let go and just walk and flow and be free
something inside gives me a push
stop, don't walk
you may fall and cry
or ominously die

I arrive at the waterfall
climb
strengthen my limbs
I made it
I'm in

Wave frantically from across the rocks
from a seemingly gigantesque cave
take a snapshot of ten minutes' ****** effort
and calorific expenditure

This is worth it
this is nature calling
the soul is swimming within the earth's loving waters
bathing
savouring
happy
Jul 2019 · 188
The Smell
Nahal Jul 2019
The smell
It made me well
Up

I realise
There's a guise
Behind those

Eyes, tears stream
An azure beam
Emotive

Dreams, this odour
It made me colder
Feel

Older, a nostalgia
A fear
A dear

Friend
Of the past
That didn't last

A smell that haunts to bits
A mix of smoke and musky perfume spritz
Nahal Jul 2019
Her Divine Father named her Fatimih
Graceful, gentle the Greatest Holy Leaf
Likened unto Mary or Táhirih
Branching from Oneness, the gems of belief
Her Father, exiled country to country
To the Servant of God years junior
She forgave hardships with serenity
Comforting her Great nephew no sooner
Tender-hearted nature of kindliness
Eloquent tongue painting language like arts
Her spirited ocean eyes would profess
Love that penetrated souls and cold hearts

After eighty six years of mortal strife
She soared to the bliss Abhá afterlife
Bahiyyíh Khanúm was Mirza Husayn Alí's (Bahá'u'lláh's) daughter, younger than Abbas Effendi (Abdu'l-Bahá). Born in 1846, she followed her Father through all the exiles to Adrianople, Constantinople, and more. She was known for her grace, kindness, forgiveness, amongst many other spiritual qualities despite all the hardships she faced with her family.
Her story is fascinating and inspiring as a woman renowned in the Bahá'í world, much like Táhirih, and other female religious figures like Mary, Fatima and so on.
Jul 2019 · 473
Sonnet for Táhirih
Nahal Jul 2019
Táhirih, The Pure One, Qurrat al-'Ayn
Poet too, Solace of the Eyes, they say
In 17 the same year as Husayn
Veiled in soft silk proclaiming a new day
Alí granted you a staunch, steadfast Faith
Striking intellect, beauty, and mission  
Vivid dreaming what the Surih saith
The path to equality: your vision
Cover your hair in shame of womanhood
Uncover it for emancipation
Freedom from Iranian clergy would
Prevent your early white expiration

Martyrdom is a choice then it's over
A longing to reach the Friend and Lover
Famously saying "You can **** me as soon as you like, but you cannot stop the emancipation of women!"
Tahiríh, known as the Pure One, was a follower of the Báb and one of the Letters of the Living. She was the only female Letter of the Living, and the only one to not actually meet the Báb in person.
Jul 2019 · 172
The Gate - A Haiku
Nahal Jul 2019
The Gate opened Truth
A herald of Unity
Eighteen Forty Four
Mar 2019 · 236
Sonnet for Hujját
Nahal Mar 2019
History tells stories of epic truth
This recounts an upheaval in Zanján
The Báb's blazing influence in his proofs
Opposed by the Mujtahids of Iran
I see the light of enkindled heroes
Dissolving ties of worldly attachment
Souls' lives sacrificed through horrendous blows
Causeless bloodshed, we ask, to what extent?
Formidable Hujját, in God, trusted
Struck dead by cannon, wife and young baby
For mere appeal to the Sháh for justice
Her name was Khadíjih, his was Hádí

At last, though suffering, he did not grieve
In heavenly blessings did he believe
The Báb was the Herald of Bahá'u'lláh the founder of the Bahá'í Faith. The Zanján Upheaval comes from stories of the Dawnbreakers. Opposing the Báb's new Revelation about the idea of the Promised One, it was a ****** battle killing many of His followers in a village called Zanján, Iran.
This particular sonnet focuses on a key individual who sacrificed his life, Hujját whose original name was Mullá Muhammad Alí. He was an ecclesiastical renowned for his knowledge who eventually came to recognise and accept the Báb's teachings upon investigation. The end, prior to his own martyrdom, his child and wife died due to a cannon striking the home which they stayed. This was because the Iranian clergy and Shah opposed his belief in the Báb. His words were:
“The day whereon I found Thy beloved One, O my God,” he cried, “and recognised in Him the Manifestation of Thy eternal Spirit, I foresaw the woes that I should suffer for Thee. Great as have been until now my sorrows, they can never compare with the agonies that I would willingly suffer in Thy name. How can this miserable life of mine, the loss of my wife and of my child, and the sacrifice of the band of my kindred and companions, compare with the blessings which the recognition of Thy Manifestation has bestowed on me! Would that a myriad lives were mine, would that I possessed the riches of the whole earth and its glory, that I might resign them all freely and joyously in Thy path.”
Mar 2019 · 345
Kendrick
Nahal Mar 2019
Isn't ugliness powerful
Being ugly gives you the power to learn
Or to be
Humble
Mar 2019 · 279
The Current Stage of Self
Nahal Mar 2019
The nature of my being
It's absolutely worth you seeing
I'm sporadic and unfocused
My brain swarms with ideas like locusts
The passion and subjection to spontaneity
When I'm sad and lost I pray to a deity
I can be doubtful of self
In these times, my emotions are stacked away high on a shelf
It's almost a cliche, it's a dusty bookcase
You wouldn't even be able to read my, generally animated, face
But get to know me, truly
I will feel everything in a manner: unruly
Right now it's time to know who I am
Ghormeh sabzi tastes better with a meat, such as lamb
Because I'm not vegetarian anymore
I used to be, with conviction, I'm sure
Don't tempt me with your lips
That's if you're looking for relationships
Tempt me with your personality
I want a sense of familiarity
Jan 2019 · 205
The syllabic heart {8}
Nahal Jan 2019
Eight mere syllables to pour out
Pour out the melody of my
Poor little, worn out, ****** heart
It does not sit well on a sleeve
Do some cardio exercise
To pump real lifeblood around it
It demands drama and passion
Considering its outer life
Has not even a slight rhythm
Nahal Jan 2019
There's something in
you that I
want to know
better, something in
you that I
think you want
to too but
I'm unsure of
how you'd react
if you knew
I felt like
this about you.

There's something in
the way you
talk to me
look at me
ask for my
approval in things
that no one
else cares about
but I admit
I quite like
the way they
look at me,
your hazel eyes.
Jul 2018 · 191
Oh dear...
Nahal Jul 2018
His smile melts me
Like a vanilla scented candle
Diffusing the fragrance to nearby nostrils
I stink of infatuation
Falling for the six foot two body
And the sweet bloom jasmine soul
Jeep dream adventures
**** fried chicken

Just friends
Jolt

Sobriety from fantasies
I remember now
Jun 2018 · 143
R
Nahal Jun 2018
R
Ready
Obviously not
Can't even fathom this going any further
Don't you see?

Ritualistic
Obviously I'm not crazy but
Careless in how I speak to you: tactless
Dubious

Reality
Obviously this is my reality
Can you deal with it?
Doubt 24/7

Righteous
Obviously I am trying
Caring so much about you
Daring to, in this state of mind
May 2018 · 136
Depress [Draft]
Nahal May 2018
I lost the words that used to come to me like
An avalanche of ideas
Flowing, streaming, drowning my brain in words
Pouring into my mind, not tears
But like kettle-boiled water to make that morning coffee

It is frustrating how now the images
That once focused my mind like a camera lens
Are distorted polaroids
Of long forgotten friends
........
May 2018 · 163
23:37 mood
Nahal May 2018
Swearing is the coward's way out
To put into words
To eloquate
One's deepest fears and worries
The ones punishable by shame or rejection
Dejected

****
Apr 2018 · 168
I don't know how I feel rn
Nahal Apr 2018
Do not forget how healing poetry is
a simple free verse of jumble and ramble
let it become your addiction
it is healthier than other tar-filled junk in your lungs.
Never underestimate the power sketching out words
as though your brain is a map
you want to travel around it
finding its cold and dark places
and basking in its glorious sunshine
when you feel light and content.
Whether handwritten or typewritten
the words flow from your lips
or your heart or the depth of your soul
with a yearning to be heard
shouting, increasing in volume
please hear me, and don't look back!
Even though your body is never illuminated inside
your brain is illumined with ideas,
bounties you never imagined you could muster up.
I don't know how I feel right now
Apr 2018 · 155
Street dramas
Nahal Apr 2018
Some of our problems occurred on the streets
I'll call them street dramas
Your shouts, and my doubts
Homelessness it seems
This love was craving for some change in the streets
A love beggar I was evidently
You left me there once crying
Crying
In the streets
A not-so-subtle drug deal happening in the middle of the road
But an exchange of happiness for depression
What rate?
Some hundred notes per smile

Isn't it odd for you walking down those same streets?
Apr 2018 · 125
#6
Nahal Apr 2018
#6
The widest smile
Architecting the happiest creases

Oval vision with the chocolate that is just about lighter than the deep black centre
Yes I have stared that deeply into his eyes

But there's a sadness
I want to solace
Apr 2018 · 142
Moments
Nahal Apr 2018
With you
Most moments are characterised by enjoyment
Laughter
Beautiful stomach-aching laughter

With you
Every moment is savoured
I do not want to watch a screen
Watch me, I will gaze at you
A look in each other's eyes feels like fulfillment
A blessing
Your kind eyes say you feel it as much as me

With you
I want the moments to last, nearly forever
Time will pause, I am present and mindful
You inspire me like I knew you would
I want to know you
I want you to know me for every second that I am

With you
I only want to spend these moments with you
Now I know exactly how I feel about you
I want us to embrace
Oct 2017 · 147
Stars and censors
Nahal Oct 2017
"*******"
As he walks away
A tear-jerking movie shocker
Dramatic music watching your lonesome back strut off down the street

"*******"
I say this to myself in my own head when I truly hate my own mind
And now you've said it out loud to my face
I will never forget it coming from your normally sweet, tender lips
Aug 2017 · 280
= Shower =
Nahal Aug 2017
Don’t you love the way the shower sounds,
Right before you step in?
Water is splashing on the tiled floor of this particular bath
The sounds of knowledge you become someone new
The likeness to shedding old skin
The caterpillar’s cocoon shell breaks away, this newness
A butterfly
Maybe you will smell like pristine nothingness
Or like your favourite branded flower
The water loves every inch of you
And spoils you with its warmth and richness.
Aug 2017 · 197
Size 12
Nahal Aug 2017
I want to hang here
In love with this size 12, rotund shape
I want to look at every single body positivity page on Instagram
Until my belly laughs and loves itself
But I want to just be
Be my skin
Without being shamed for the fabric that fits around me
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