How calculating I must seem. Through moans, all silken and breathy. My arching spine, supine from a lucky coincidence. I have dimples in my hips, like Bettie Page. I see the admiration, the quick intake of air.
But none of it is affectation. I am leveled, laid flat and stripped of guises. My chest heaves and my legs tremble but my face stays cool and level as a placid lake.
I cannot say it back, for I do not yet know how I mean it.
But none of it is affectation. I am leveled, laid flat and stripped of guises. My chest heaves and my legs tremble but my face stays cool and level as a placid lake.
I cannot say it back, for I do not yet know how I mean it.
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