She sits every night in the deep circles under my eyes, like a girl in a paper moon. She doesn’t see me, but I feel seen by her– or at least I think I feel seen. It’s hard to know for sure what I’m feeling once I’ve asked the pixels to make her for me; my head is already below the water.
I’ve never once touched her– I’ve never once been near enough to touch her– but I know for certain that she is soft, so soft. The pixels told me. Every last inch of her is soft, from the bottom to the top, from the front to the back. The folds of her smile, the folds between her legs are the perfect little soft-secret places for hiding. That’s the most I’ve ever wanted in a person, I think, a place for hiding.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/g4dyea/more_of_a_short_poem_than_a_story_but_maybe_this