Sometimes I want to follow you there and take it from you, colonize it as I have every other aspect of your existence. You should know that you don’t deserve a refuge I cannot despoil, a private hell I cannot infest; the arid steppes of your imagination are mine, by the right of the conqueror over the conquered.
But mostly, I really don’t mind that you’re absent. Your body is more beautiful when it isn’t animated by your awkwardness and insecurity, leaving it capable of actually pleasing a man. In fact, I’ve found that your least attractive feature is your self; watching it leave your eyes as I sink inside you is the best part of knowing you.