"The mouth obeys poorly when the heart murmurs." Voltaire
You are my Pandora's Box; you've been opened, and there is no returning to Eden. You are the only one who can make me feel something.
Drifting loosely tethered to what was. Currents flowing, coaxing, calling to another destination Held in place and slipping into myself. That moment when I am exposed and vulnerable before you. Your fingers grip around my neck and everything settles into place. Nothing else matters. I am where I want to be. I choose this. Yours.