My love is a Möbius strip of sexual indulgence.

It is not too much, it's simply not dependent. It propels itself. My passion is a part of me, it may wax and wane, but it is always there if reached for.

I'm not ashamed. I will not keep my secret because others are dysregulated sexually. It's not a sin or a problem to feel this alive consistently.

I could never hate men for the mistakes I allowed with individuals who didn't appreciate me.

I want to make a shrine of his naturism.

I am only waiting to be seen, for all that together can mean.

And caught by the tail as I do not chase energy that can't keep up 🖤