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Beauty At It’s Finest
I love me.
Every minute of the day.
My imperfections represent beauty.
Wouldn’t have it any other way.
My love handles tell a story.
Three children I bore.
They’re my fame to glory.
Waist training, what for?
To squeeze the hell out of my insecurities?
Conform to whose standards?
Cellulite and stretch marks … work of art.
I’m a canvas of beauty.
My flaws, the sun has kissed.
And the moon becomes my spotlight.
Showcasing the flaws the sun missed.
Impress myself, I might.
I love me, je m’ aime.
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