your words, your songs, your smiles…

they’ve been written, sang, smiled by others.

your eyes, your skin color, your hair… they’ve been worn by others.

nothing about you is original,
not even the left mole on your cheek, or your bent nose, or your green-blue eyes like the ocean water.

But the way these parts weave together
like an impossibly intricate braid intertwined in a never-ending dance
is original,

and it’s beautiful.

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