Round 3:

I am a person who is not quite a woman, not quite a man. I am what life has made me—someone who wishes to be gentle and is sometimes not. Someone with werewolf tufts who sometimes turns inside out. Perhaps this is true for you, too—a feeling of being a little bit strange, of having some fur and teeth, and shadows of the forest flickering across the back of your eyelids. If so, I wish you the exhalation of breath when your heart has synced with that of a horse, a friend, or another species, and that you can relax into a very real place, where you are the animal you were thousands of years ago, before people tried to wipe away your instincts with religion and greed and jealousy and fear. I wish you freedom and the knowledge of being a part of the world's tenderness. And I hope whenever the chance comes you will take it and feel your heartbeat along its true original course—down the ever-changing river of you.