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Only you, she said.
Not of anything important but
The importance of that nothing
Raised a veil from my eyes
And light poured in to fill
The void I'd grown inside.

I'm glad, she said.
Not for lack of meaning but
Meaning my lack of
Confidence detracted not from
Her joy and her smiles.

Thank you, she said.
Not just empty breaths but
That each breath I'd emptied
Grinning was matched by one
Of her own brighter moments.

Everything, she said.
And left me, wondering if
All this wondering left only
One truth sealed still
Locked behind her eyes.

Dare I look deeper?
Until even the edges of my mind
Are only you.
Eyes once filled with dreams
that spilled out into visions
Now dulled by time and memory
And struggle not to close

A heart once fed by love
that glowed with hope and meaning
Now beats with broken voice
And aches for other's pain

Lips once loud with stories
That weaved emotions with one breath
Now tired and silent
With no reason to speak

A girl who'd dream of futures
And speak of hope with pride
Now sits alone, with no fight left
She accepts her fate
And cries.
My bed; my wardrobe; my drawings on the wall.
My dolls; my games; my cosmetics.

It is where I live
at least half of my life.

Life is walking and breathing; talking and fighting
loving ourselves.
These are half in my room, half on my screen.

I wondered why.
Why Eva are you here only in half?

The answer is that outside this room is unavoidable death.

Life is to eat; to drink... to be pretty, even.
But death is waiting for me.

This death is insidious. It takes many years to get you
so you forget.

But you can run away.
Eva can walk and breathe; eat and drink... be pretty.

But what will it be of her screen?
Of her love?
It's beautiful
my ears bring me to tears
but I don't cover them.

I cover yours
your lips.

I take your voice for myself; your breathing.

I understand your position:
an object of pleasure.

But it matters not
for your defenseless mind
is now mine.
Rain fell with no ending
As I half-ran through the city
With only a jacket
No hood
Droplets drummed against my head
And soaked through my hair
Ran down my cheeks
And over my lips
Slipping softly
Between my breaths
Upon my tongue
And resting there
Whispering, lingering
An echo of a kiss
I can't yet know
I slide the door open,
she was rightfully there.

It was the room I assigned for her
she had just moved in.

A few spares of her outfit peek out of her wardrobe,
A couple dresses as well
One blue; one red.

At the side is a broom; feather duster and such
Still lying around.

Her personality hadn't changed the room yet.

now

I take my first step in,
she amusingly begins bowing already.

No different than the rest of the furniture she is: tidy, a pleasant aroma around her and a pretty thing to look at.

I greet her, my maid.
I hear those dutiful words, that name: "Mistress".

She's blushing; her arms so obviously tense.

Every footstep I take towards her echoes in our hearts.

...


I lock our gazes- such an adorable and intimidated look.
Her lips are trembling as I get closer: "Mi-" she tried to say.

But my finger was keeping her mouth shut.

"Shhh" a whisper followed by a modest nod from her.

The tension is cut as I slide my fingers down her arm
her gasp held hostage by me.
She could make no sound.

I can't help but giggle.

With that smile I lean closer to her.
To her lips.
I had her captive already, my arms resting on her hips.

"You are my furniture, dear."
"Yes Mistress."

It is all there was before with my kiss
I took over her mind.
She waits, outwardly patient, to greet her home
A gentle bow, with a smile that she has rehearsed, but need not
For when her Mistress returns her smile will not be fake
Nor the lift in her spirits
And when she grants her a moment alone,
She longs to feel her Mistress' touch,
Her warmth
Her breath
But she will not overstep, no, she waits - though it pains her - until permission is given
And all the more precious is the hand she cannot hold
The hand she reaches for
Yearns for
But remains a command away
So she waits
For if she is good,
Her reward will be sweet.
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