There are moments when a woman does not need to be seen clearly to be deeply felt. She moves softly between who she was and who she is becoming carrying a quiet tenderness that does not ask for attention. The world may blur her edges yet inside she is steady warm and awake. Like blossoms that open without permission she allows herself to exist gently without rush without force. There is strength in her softness and peace in her distance. She is not disappearing she is choosing herself in the most silent honest way.
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