Pressed against you, warm and wanted, pressure on that little part of my waist you like to toy with. I am yours to toy with, tortured in the sweetest way, contorted, calling out your name. I call you, the next day, kneeling by my bed, as if I’m praying. Approaching you, as if you are…

Last night was a blur, buried beneath blankets and the exhaustion of existence, I forgot myself, my function. I selfishly slept, without so much as a good night kiss, or a finished list of my daily duties. You know I’m devoted. Dangerously so, some would argue, but beds are devious things, pulling me in, with…