Look older.
Look younger.
Look like her.
Look like him.
Look like what I think he wants.
Hair color and waistline
are not who you are.
Next year they could change.
If you show me something fake and I love you,
how do you know it's real?
Thirty years in the making,
let me tell you a secret.
He let me see him,
and I accepted him.
I let him see me,
and he loves me anyway.
And when he's driving,
I look away.
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