This can’t be tamed.
This passion, this need, this desire coursing oily hot through my veins, this sensuality softly rising up, prickling my skin with its gleaming, scented sheen, this carnality tearing at my flesh and blood and bones through the dark hours and the light, this woman staring back at me in the silvery reflective glass.
This can’t be tamed. I can’t be tamed. And I’m unsure I even want to try.