I always loved corsets, it is a life contradiction.
Wanting to be bonded strapped confined but within yourself, almost a jail but something easy to escape.
The corset is untied and abandoned on the side of a bed after all the candles are burned and their wax loses their figure as you regain yours. You want to love with it it, you want to be loved in it. Your waist is rigid but all the rest of your body seems to bloom and live a life of it own, seperated from the other jailed zone. Sensation are as defined as these new curves flaunting themselves under the precious satin. You want unruly action when you are contrived. You crave for intensity, passion and madness under the pale veil of the lace. You are a cathedral, a celebration, an architectural display, a past dream and a ghostly romance.
You are what you…
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