Unbetitelt @proxy-m - Tumblr Blog

The perfect design. The graceful curves, the delicate creases, the cheeky dimples on a woman's back. It all screams sensuality. The roundness of her bum the softness of her skin, it beckons you into her. Fascinating like the flickering flame of a campfire you can’t help but to stare at it’s beauty. The more you stare the stronger the temptation to touch. Seduced into tracing the lines of your body with a playful fingernail, to kiss the creases, to run my hand along the arch. Drawn to you to taste your soft skin, to lovingly bite your cheek, to admire and adore.

It is not only the memory of a person that stirs us, but also the quiet grief for what never came to be.

#p❌

rebel-heart-gypsysoul

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The sensuality of a mature woman resides not in what she chooses to unveil, but in what emanates from within: the tranquil grace of a life deeply lived, the warmth of an open heart, and the gentle assurance of a woman who has finally come home to herself.

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proxy-m

Do not touch me with words, but with what lives between the notes.

Do you see how the candlelight drifts across the keys? How the shadows dance, as though following the memory of a dream?

Every note is a whisper of longing, every chord a la petite mort, a sweet surrender to the fleeting moment.

And every pause carries a promise - fragile enough to shatter, yet strong enough to endure.

Come closer. Lay your heart within this music.

Here, between flickering light, silence, and melody, where the night unveils its secrets, something begins that has no need of words.

Only music. Only feeling. Only this singular moment, lingering like a small eternity.

#p❌

proxy-m

Look into my eyes. What do you see?

Not a flawless reflection, not a simple yes.

You see unspoken questions, wounds that sought to heal without leaving scars behind. You see weariness - not from wandering, but from remaining. You see the glow of a fire that has learned to burn in silence.

There is the stillness of someone who once felt too deeply - and yet remained quiet; who searched for closeness - and often found only emptiness.

There is a gaze that no longer wishes to please, but simply longs to be true.

Do you see the shadows?

They are the lingering outlines of forgotten nights, the silent witnesses to all that was lost and yet remained a part of me.

But look closer.

Between them, there is still light.

Not the bright radiance of unbroken dreams, but that gentler glow born when a heart has walked through sorrow and still has not forgotten how to love.

Within these eyes rest farewells and beginnings, winters and springs, lost roads and rediscovered hope.

They carry memories as the heavens carry stars - some long extinguished, yet still visible across the distance.

And if you gaze long enough, you may come to see that all the fractures, all the shadows, all the silent battles have hidden nothing.

They have only made me more permeable to the light.

For these eyes tell no story of untouched innocence.

They tell of a soul that has fallen, doubted, lost, and longed - and yet never surrendered its sense of wonder.

So look into my eyes.

And if you find something there that moves you, perhaps it is because what you recognize is not me - but a forgotten part of yourself, quietly waiting to be seen.

#p❌

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