Come closer…
but not too close.
I want you to feel my presence without ever touching me,
to feel the distance burn you,
to feel your pulse race just imagining what I could give you…
and what I deliberately withhold.
That's what poisons you, isn't it?
That you never know if I'm going to come closer or leave you burning.
That I'm the one who controls your every breath.
That any gesture of mine can break you.
I drive you crazy without even touching you,
and yet you come back,
again and again,
as if I were the only source of oxygen you know.
How easy it is to read you…
how your thoughts darken when I lower my voice,
how everything becomes chaotic when I tilt my head slightly,
how you melt away just from my lips brushing a word that belongs to you.
Because yes, admit it:
your mind bows to me before your body. I possess you from there…
from that silent corner no one else knows how to touch,
from that desire you can neither control nor hide.
And while you lose yourself in my insinuations,
I decide what to give you, what to deny you,
what to confess in a whisper that pierces your skin
even though it doesn't touch you.
That is my poison:
sweet, slow, deep…
impossible to resist.
Look at me.
Don't look away.
I want you to feel every word as if I were letting it fall upon your skin:
you are nothing more than a submissive surrendered to me.
My voice dominates you more than any caress,
my silence marks you more than any command,
my presence disarms you more than any touch.
Stay there.
Still.
Burning with elegance.
Trembling inside.
Because I will continue speaking to you…
until you are only a reflection of my will
and your desire kneels without my having to ask.
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