naked. squatting. heels on
hands stretched above her head, gripping the doorframe
her back exposed, hair wet, body ready
it’s not a pose
it’s a dare
sheer curtain. naked body
heels digging into the floor
back arched toward the window
she makes daylight feel dirty
fishnet. chains. glossed skin
she covers just enough to tease
the rest?
intentional
fishnet. flash. wet hair
her face blurred by light,
but her body says everything
control never looked this good
city skyline behind her
corset unlaced. eyes down
she isn’t lost in thought
she’s deciding what happens next
out of focus. almost not there
stockings, corset, stillness
she looked like a memory
you weren’t supposed to keep
lingerie. Marble. Mirror
she sits still, but the room watches
one face turned away
the other sees everything
naked on heels, one hand in her hair,
the other gripping the tv
the news keeps talking
she’s the real broadcast
naked, lit by city lights
one hand across her chest,
the other pulling her forward
she’s not running
she’s performing
naked but for glitter boots
hair wild, one leg lifted,
hands on glass,
the city blinking behind her
she came dressed for the night
red soles. black lace
hair down, back arched, chair gripped
she’s not waiting for permission
she’s daring you to look longer
blurred. backlit. unbothered
black lingerie under a hotel robe
she’s not out of focus —
she’s just out of reach
she kneels backwards on a hotel chair,
hair loose, lingerie tight
the lamp tilts
the bed waits
this isn’t rest
it’s rehearsal
shirt half-lifted
one breast exposed. strings untied
all tension. no apology
she knows exactly where you’re looking
paris outside. lace falling
she lifts her dress, back exposed,
the eiffel tower watching
some views aren’t meant to be shared
naked in heels, stretched across white sheets
morning light cuts the room
one leg bent. one arm over her face
this isn’t rest
it’s surrender
heels digging into the floor
one knee on the sheets, one hand gripping the chair
she’s not crawling
she’s claiming
naked, draped over the chair like a question
heels still on. sheets on the floor
the bed’s behind her,
but she’s not done yet
she’s draped across the bench,
black lingerie, gloves, heels —
the bed untouched
pleasure doesn’t wait for comfort
skyline view. one leg up
hair falling, back arched, heels steady
she’s not admiring the city
she’s daring it to admire her
lace mask. lingerie. boots to the knee
she eats pasta like it’s foreplay
midnight doesn’t ask questions
it watches
blurred flash. motel phone
one boot on the bed, the other on the floor
she’s not calling for help
she is the emergency
face masked. legs crossed
gloves up to the elbows,
the room soft, her stare sharp
obedience isn’t requested —
it’s expected
nude in heels, back arched, hand on the door
her face erased by flash, body frozen mid-reveal
she’s not entering
she’s arriving