Nothing moves unless I say so.

Nothing moves unless I say so. Some nights I stay dressed on purpose, every layer holding a secret I won’t share. The hijab tightens as if it knows I won’t be touched tonight. Heat gathers where no one sees, and I let it stay there. The anklet presses into me when I cross my legs, not asking, just reminding. It turns me on knowing pleasure waits for permission it may never get. Not taken. Not given. Just held where only I decide. Power doesn’t unfold. It stays wrapped in what I never explain. Even without moving, I keep everything exactly where I want it. And I like knowing that nothing moves unless I say so.