I want nothing from you. Not really. When I see you there, as I walk past you on the street, you looking so attractive, I’m not really attracted. Not in that way.
When I look at you, it’s only to acknowledge the effort you made before you came to be here – to be the best you could be. I don’t want to take anything from that. Or from you.
And if nature has made you so, then so much better. If you did not put in the work and cannot take responsibility for your attractive qualities, then my appreciative glance is only for the work of nature.
But I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want to take you, abuse you, despoil you or otherwise put you to any trouble. I wish only to acknowledge the effort you and nature put into this book that is you.
But I have only seen the cover. I am of course interested in the story you wish to tell.