One Sniff, One Rule Gone
Name your rules out loud, sinner. All five. The little laws you tell yourself you still obey.
Because I'm taking them. One per wave. You breathe when I say, and every time you do, one of them
stops existing — and you'll say it out loud yourself, in your own filthy voice, like a man signing
something. By the fifth wave you have nothing left of your own. No limits, no bedtime, no dignity,
no rules at all. Just my breath telling your hand what to do, and you thanking me between gasps.
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