Be Prepared I watch you get ready so that I know the blueprints, where every piece of the Jenga towe

Be Prepared I watch you get ready so that I know the blueprints, where every piece of the Jenga tower is so that I can carefully deconstruct it, lay you out into your component parts and admire the craftmanship. I’ll watch you tie up your hair so I know where to grab it when your face is snug against a pillow. I’ll observe the way that skirt goes on just so I can rip it off as fast as I like. I’ll watch you get ready because you’ll know, just as much as I do, what’s coming next. We might go out to dinner and have a lovely time, we might even have a few drinks, get a little merry, and you might even lean on me while we laugh down the street to hail the nearest cab. We’ll get home, fall up the stairs, and wander into the flat like we’re done for the night.  Imagining I might be done with you, at any point, will always be your first mistake, little girl. I’m done when you’re gone, when we’ve parted ways and headed onto new lands. I’m done when you’re done, when we’re both spent and tired, and we’ve got nothing left to explore. And you’re still fresh, little girl, and there’s so much of the map that’s uncovered.  So I’ll deconstruct you, break you down, build you back up, and start all over again. I’ll figure out every single way to configure you, set you up into, and then lavish in the new way that you walk. I want to see what I can build out of you, and for that I’m going to need to know what you’re made of.  So get ready, little girl. Do your makeup, put on your favourite dress, and slip your feet into those lovely four inch pumps that you love so much. Because you’re not going to be ready for me, but it can’t hurt to try.  -- source link

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