Everything must be just right. Like Goldilocks would determine but at a meaner, faster pace.
While everything seems cuddly and perfect, there also has to be a submission to my ways.
I push, then pull at the soft outer covering.
A right cross is necessary.
My opponent doesn’t respond.
I push away again but then needingly pull it back into my body. We are, after all, very close.
I look down and feel it just wasn’t enough. I add two swift punches to its center.
We seem to understand each other now.
There is a yielding to my superior force.
I lay next to my soft, cuddly, now beaten companion. The aggression is a needed part of our otherwise orderly life together. The beatings keep it that way.
I’ve made my impression…
and I do realize I enjoy it.
Goldilocks would be proud. A women, in the house, with the ability to fluff her pillow until it is just right.