Bodies
I notice people’s bodies. not in any sort of way; I just notice the bodies that pass by my own. my mother's body is softer than my fathers. this due to her having birthed three children and many years of being loved by men who want all of her. my dad has soft lines and masculine contours but that does not even compare to the sweet curve of my mother's cheek when she smiles or the harsh outline of her soul that she has carved out of obsidian and sapphire in the years between being loathed and being loved.
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