Useless

The beat is my heart, Pump, pump, pumping glory Down to my feet, boom.

Once I swam around in a pool of music I lay on my back listening to Achtung Baby on repeat on my brother’s Discman, dreaming

The ultimate measure of a woman is not how many balls she can keep up in the air, but in the strength she gives herself

Every year I yearn My palate longs for for the flavors, the diversity, the swirls and layers of taste and texture gentle and full Every

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