You have always kept it hidden. You think no one knows what you do when you are alone. But I know. You think about your wife’s feet after a long day. The shoes. The smell. What’s left inside them. You act like you are in control. Like it’s nothing. But it isn’t. You want it. You just never had the courage to admit it. So you hide it well. Like a coward. But not here. I see exactly what you are. Now stay. And stop lying to yourself.
