If we are going to do this, I need to know. I need to know before I lay myself so bare.
Do you love my mid-week self? My every day self?
The rumpled clothes. The thump of my handbag, filled with work, on the dining table. Bra-shedding contortions under my shirt at the front door.
Well, that one does make you smile.
Ankles swollen and hands flecked with ink marks from my twiddled pen.
Can you spank me when I need it, not just shower fresh and legs shaved in curated moments?
Can I trust you with my impromptu self?
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