One half ni hao, one half muy bien, somehow all-American. I embrace myself, all one-hundred-fifteen-ish pound, all flaws, all blemishes, all scars. The breeze cools what this violent sun burns, as I turn various shades of okay. My eyes gaze upward as my heart leaps ahead and my body stumbles in the wake. I've asked, in the past, for things to be made clear, but the truth is that there's always enough time for a good story to unfold on its own.
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