You wanted me.

Don’t lie.

I saw it

in the way your eyes trailed my hips

like a confession.

In the pause

before you looked away

too fast—

like my thighs were a crime

you didn’t want to admit to craving.

You wanted me—

but not in daylight.

Not in front of your friends.

Not in a photo that might get posted.

You wanted me

behind closed doors,

on your terms,

in shadows thick with secrecy.