Sunday night and an edible trip.

The edible kicks in and suddenly it’s you. Your hands, your lips, your voice telling me what to do like I forgot how to behave on my own. You’re gone, and I don’t belong to anyone now… but my body still remembers who made me melt. I pretend I don’t miss your control, but the memory of you takes over anyway. I get soft. I get stubborn. I get needy. And I let the pleasure win, because even now, I’m still yours in my head.