Some days I don’t think about my size at all. On
odd days I struggle to think of anything else.
This body is only a temporary thing and reflects a life full of wine and food, chronic pain and an aging body.
It’s a sum of my ethereal, passionate parts specially made to soften a man’s impact as he loses himself between my soft, white thighs. It’s a holding space for me and my friends, me and my visions.
It’s ok if it grows. It’s ok if it shrinks. What matters most is that I take good care of it.