Touch me like that
Touch me like you’re not in a hurry.
Like the curve of my hip holds meaning,
like my thighs tell stories
you’ve always longed to read—
slowly, with your mouth.
Let your hands wander
without a destination.
Let them explore,
with passion and curiosity.
Brush my skin like it matters
Like every inch is whispering
to be remembered.
Don’t rush toward the heat.
Linger where it begins.
Breathe where I soften.
Let tension build—
let it rise
like a secret
between my legs.
Speak without words—
with your breath,
your weight,
your lips.
your knowing silence.
This is not a race to the end.
This is presence in motion.
This is what it feels like
to be opened
without being taken.
To be tasted
like something rare—
that longs
to be fully devoured.
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