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I am not really interested in your Nice Self.

Your clean, tidy, happy, respectable, best-table-manners Self. Everyone gets to see that.

I long to see the rest of you. The bits that are wounded, quivering, dirty, terrified, ecstatic, and inappropriate. I want to adore those hidden parts of you.

I give you permission to show me.

But it’s not my permission you really need.

It’s your own.

butterfly hand b  and w