Writing that you can see.
I put on my matte red lip with my eyebrows on fleek, kissable.
My dress is tight and my heels are high.
The river wild flows thunderously between my supple brown sugar mountain highs and
My twin peaks greet you at the door before my bedroom eyes.
My scent is a potion, intoxication guaranteed.
I am dressed for the gods feeling good, looking good for the that lady who gives and demands respect that I eye in the mirror.
She is tantalizing.
Though you may take her self admiration as an invite to the party sir, I ask…
Where is your invitation?
You are invasive.
This walk down the block in my peep toes to my reservation was made for a party of one.
My river wild and these twin peaks are exclusive, your verbal derogations are trespassing in my ecosystem and you are not welcome.
What you impose during…
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