letters to my lovers

I’m sorry, what was the question again? 🥀

There are three pillars that lead to the death of a relationship: complacency, contentment and comfortability. Co-occurring with periods of emotional and physical neglect. The mind begins to preoccupy itself with other worldly things. No showers of compliments, no real acknowledgements of the woman before him. A lot of words beginning with the letter C and yet, nothing is in representation to the correlation of the woman cuming. I don’t know, maybe, just maybe, this is why I am here tonight. The other night lying there in bed and, there is an understanding in the inability to justify the actions that lead to me being here with you, but the body was limp and the flesh was ripe and sore. There is no real care to justify the natural desires of the body, the defense is pointless. So, what is expected of a woman who is bored? Tired of denying herself the rightful pleasures of enjoying every millisecond of an utmost pleasing orgasm. How many other ways can it be expressed that there are needs that are being ignored? Begging in silence for the touch of my lover, the aches begin. My lover has no idea what he does to me. Mi amante, dime qué quieres hacer conmigo esta noche. Mi vida, mi cuerpo te necesita…..The shame in looking at a garden in which no one cares to water and tend to anymore. The three pillars of death are present and I am asked if I’m ever scared to get caught. Caught? What is there to get caught with or of or from or what have you? You’re speaking to a woman who is trying to survive. The risk, that excitement, that satisfaction that my lover brings is worth it every time. Am I️ scared? Fear leaves the moment you accept that sometimes things just don’t change no matter how hard you pray or try. At this point, what is there really to lose?

Maybe there’s a misunderstanding, can you repeat the question?

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