I was once the dirtiest secret he kept in his memory... I was once the personification of relief at the end of a rotten day. I was once the one who tells him to shut up, and the one who listens when no one else can stand to hear. I was once the porn of his imagination, complete with handcuffs, straps and chastity rings. I was once the sanctuary where he vented his Catholic guilt. I was once the voice he heard with his eyes closed, before going to sleep... and that he was embarrassed to admit the next day. I was once the one who observed in silence, but whose body expressed complete lines of reasoning in delicate movements. I was once called a goddess, a queen, a spell. I was once the lack of control, the delicious discomfort, the trigger and the confusion. I was once the owner of a man who wanted to experience chastity under my desires. The one who excites and frustrates him in the same sentence. I was once the She-Wolf of a 19-year-old man, the girlfriend who lightens the burden of life. The fetishist, the whore, the bitch, I've been a lover, an unfaithful wife... I am the mirror of your instincts. So, what you see reflected in me makes you want to run away or crawl closer?
