Surrender

Touch me

like you’re not in a hurry.

Like time bends

for the softness of skin,

for the breath

between our ribs.

Let your hands speak

what your lips don’t say—

a language without words,

just slow movement,

just warmth,

just you and me.

I want to feel you

in the spaces where I hold secrets,

in the places I hide.

Trace your fingers

along the edges of my resistance

until it unravels into trust.

Kiss me

not just with your mouth,

but with your heart.

With your listening.

With the pause you take

before your next move.

This isn’t about taking—

it’s about allowing.

The kind of touch

that doesn’t demand surrender,

but invites it.

Slow.

Safe.

Easy.

Let me forget my name

for a moment.

Let me just be breath

and nerve endings

and soft permission.

Let me come undone

in the way only touch can undo—

not because you tried,

but because I felt safe enough

to let go.

Love,

Rosie x

Note: This poem is a personal expression of sensuality and creativity. It is not a description of my sessions or an invitation. My offerings are rooted in tantric massage and are held with deep care, presence, and clear boundaries. x