I’m the kind of presence that lingers — in your thoughts, on your skin, in the places where craving begins. There’s a softness to me, but it’s not innocent. A glance becomes a dare, a smile becomes a promise. I don’t speak in questions — I let silence pull you closer.
I move like I know the weight of desire, the rhythm of anticipation, the language your hands forgot they could speak. I’m not here to pretend or please — I’m here to awaken.
Time doesn’t pass with me, it melts — slow, golden, wickedly sweet. And when I leave, I don’t really leave. I stay where you least expect me: under your breath, in your hunger, behind your closed eyes.
