Sometimes the silence of this town is the loudest thing. It leaves too much space for thoughts I usually keep tied up tight. I was looking through my collection of ropes tonight... not for use, just touching them. There's a specific weight to jute that calms my hands. It reminds me that control is a practice, not just a moment. I'm craving something heavy. Not just a body to tie, but a silence to fill. I want to hear someone's breath hitch when I pull a knot against their skin. I want to feel the heat radiating off a bound body while I sit back and just enjoy the view. My cunt aches for it. It’s a different kind of hunger than the one I feed with expensive wine. This one wants to be served. Who wants to be my canvas tonight?