The walk of no shame used to feel like power. Lately it just feels like I am frightened of breakfast. That is a different story.
Tag: lust
Do not bury your face treating it like a task. I want the look. I want you to clock it. That bit stays with me.
It’s when the weirdos come out There is a particular hour on the Night Tube where you can tell exactly who everyone was three hours ago. Not from their faces. From the evidence. Mascara at midnight. Work badge in the…
Five opinions, three voice notes, one screenshot. By the time I text him I am not me. I am a committee in a tight dress.
I want the warm-up first. Then I want you to mean it. Soft the whole way through feels like you are frightened of me really.
There is a difference and you can feel it immediately. Hold me there. Do not treat my head like some handle from cheap porn films.
No name talk. No job talk. No story about the week. Just a dark room and a warm body that does not need a biography.
Mascara at midnight, work badge in the same bag. This city watches you switch lives in one carriage and nobody comments. That is the mercy.
Do not guess like you are brave. Ask. Then do it like you meant the answer. Confidence is listening with your hands still on me.
Anyone can copy a move. Fewer check my face. The ones I keep thinking about did not perform. They paid attention and then stayed human.