and you ask me…
how will i know it’s him
when he comes along?
i’ll know it’s him
by the way he walks in
wearing respect like a nice suit
and holding that
take. it. slow. magic.
with his self-love, self-required,
just radiating liberation from old men’s tales,
and because…
before he lets me love him…
it will matter that i love myself.
– butterflies rising
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