She is fluent in five languages including the language of hands when she unbuttons your shirt and the language of words unsaid. She moves like the moon: always chasing the sun. Loose wrists that twirl above her dark mane, curves like a string instrument. Her culture is the sound of a beating heart. Her dance is a religion. She is less like a girl and more like a verb.

(I want you to know her for her movement and not her sadness.)

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