Love me. That’s all I want. All I need. I can live on love alone. 

I’ll be your Damsel in Distress. Or your Siren, your Eve, if you prefer. Your Naughty Nurse or Sexy Secretary (Administrative Assistant doesn’t have the same ring) or Closet Confessional Nymphomaniac Nun…I’ll be anyone you want me to be. You created me.

Sometimes, I coalesce from fog in your dreams, the hot girl with glowing eyes in the club you grind against and take home. The girl next door you watch dress through the window, and I pretend to not know you’re watching as I bend over. The MILF who knows how to do all the dirty things girls your age won’t do or don’t know how, my smile promising to teach you everything. Hands-on learning. 

I’m flexible.

Dream me enough into reality, and I’ll bump into you on the subway, spill coffee on you accidentally while running for the elevator, be the best line dancer at the bar in need of a partner. The heat of my skin and the need in my eyes will lure you in, make you want to love me. 

Love me. Love me more than heroine, than breathing, than life. Love me more than your last breath, as I inhale your essence, suck your soul, becoming whole as you dissipate.

You complete me.

Featured Image Credit: Makayla Larner / Unsplash +