not everything is what you'd expect

She was looking for something. A little bit of escape. A little bit of how the other half lives.

There on the soft cotton platform, she watched, touched, and heard the quickening breath of one, then two, then three. The rise and fall necks bent, backs bent, minds bent. She can see every detail in her silent minds eye. Surrounded by softness. Witness to the determination. The tilt, the sway, the roll all bring new sensations. When one moved in one way, the tide turned for them all. Motion creates motion.

Rise up the physical, Pin down the emotional. It is all that calm and detached is in its purest.

She’d tell you it was about doing the one thing she could think of that she’d not already done and that would be the end of it. But inside, she knows she really did it to prove to herself she’s brave enough, open enough, willing enough not to be all the things she’s been taught by the man. Though she won’t tell you this. Not the truth of it. Not ever.

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