From habit or coping into true desire where the fear of bad news transforms into self acceptance. My eyes turn inward with grace  rather than on me with with brutal honesty where the Smile is met, not anger. A soft answer is heard unattached to my wrong questions. I bow in a moment of genuine humiliy long enough where the authentique me is tasted. Not as poison, but as genuine desire still frought with the lingering residue Brennon Manning speaks of as an imposter.

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