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Imperfection

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His small fingertips stretch out away from his little body strapped to the car seat. They dance along the window, wiping away the fog. Little elegant curls run along with sides and his fingerprints leave their mark. He seems pleased, and the edges of his mouth push back the little extra baby fat. Curling up his pudgy hand into a first, he scrunches up his nose wrinkling his perfect skin, and wipes away the creation.




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