The Language of Submission

There is a language deeper than words.
A breath shared, a moment stolen behind the hush of surrender.
No need for sight when trust binds tighter than silk.
No need for sound when the hush of his palm is upon my lips.

🌑 Where Silence Speaks in Submission

Blindfolded, I bloom.
Not in darkness, but in feeling.
Every graze of skin becomes a sentence.
Each pause between touches is a paragraph of intention.

This is the language of submission—not spoken, but felt.

🖤 A Compass Called Devotion

He does not silence me to quiet my voice.
Rather, he quiets the world so I can hear myself within him.
He dims the light so I may finally see what only devotion reveals.
His hand, strong and calm, is not force, but guidance—
A compass over the trembling map of my need.

💫 Felt, Offered, Understood

It becomes a symphony of stillness.
A confession shaped like a kiss never given—only received.
Here, I do not speak.
I feel.
I offer.
I am.

🖤 Trust, Veiled and Vivid

Wrapped in trust, veiled in obedience,
I am seen more clearly with eyes closed than ever with eyes wide open.
This is the language of submission—intimate, wordless, and endlessly understood.

I, sometimes read these writings, I invite you to do the same.