I don’t need to raise my voice to be heard. My presence speaks first. When I walk into a room, silence often greets me before words do. I move with ease, as if every step knows exactly the kind of desire it might stir. I don’t fake it — I simply am.
My gaze doesn’t hide. I look directly, with intention, with a touch of playfulness. Some say my eyes reveal more than they should. Maybe they’re right… or maybe they just don’t know how to read them properly. I love suggestion — that fine line between what is shown and what is left to the imagination. I enjoy leaving space for mystery.
I don’t try to seduce. I don’t have to. The way I hold a glass, how I tuck my hair behind my ear, how I cross my legs when I sit — it all happens without calculation. It’s part of me. But when I choose to speak, when I let my voice glide gently through a good conversation, I know exactly what I can stir. And I enjoy it.
I’m not the perfect woman.
I’m the one you won’t forget.
