Purity Prison

Succeeding to the conviction of my rational, I revel in the illusion that someday is today. Knowing full well that tomorrow, alongside the weight of your body’s fading impression, I will condemn this moment out of respect for its full incantation— an entrapment of my thriving will to soar beyond familiar infractions toward that which exchanges avidity for self.

You want me. I can feel you groping my energy, attempting to chastise my autonomy. You desire my body. To caress my skin, fingertips pulling forth my deepest essence until you can no longer handle the accumulation of mutuality infusing our marrow. Without thought your palms flex, pressing firmly against my low back before enveloping my hips and igniting a grip of authority to which I submit. Wherever you so choose to explore I am met with the sweet release of pleasure. I cannot help but lean in. How have you done it, I wonder, gained my full trust through a succession of falsities and irreverent withholding? I revel in the illusion that someday you will let me in as deeply as I'm about to let you.

Succeeding to the conviction of my rational, I revel in the illusion that someday is today, knowing full well that tomorrow, alongside the weight of your body's fading impression, I will condemn this moment out of respect for its full incantation- an entrapment of my thriving will to soar beyond familiar infractions toward that which exchanges avidity for self.