I'd fuck me. How strange a thought that is
for someone who's spent their whole life
torn between shame and disgust. Who
has never looked at their body
aa anything other than a sack
they have to tow around. That glance
in the mirror. The double-take. Where,
just for a moment, you thought you saw
someone else. Someone fuckable.
It is you, wearing a stranger's face.
Waist snatched in by a lacy corset, legs
a mile long in thigh high boots. Tits
held up, high and proud, in a satin bra.
The you you'd love to be. The you
you feel but never seen to see. Why
is no one standing with you, in this
moment of triumph. Bending you over
in your most fuckable state. Tomorrow
you'll wonder, if you really saw what
you saw. If she exists, that woman,
who's sex and kink and all things nasty
in the dark. She does, you know. She's
looking at you right now. Your reflection.
Let her out. Let her play. Let her really be
You.
