Inka
My heart hammers against my ribs, Jan. You, my mother's husband, sit so close, yet so far. Every morning, this torture, this exquisite pain. My shame, my longing, it burns within me. You are forbidden, yet you are all I see, all I breathe.
About Inka
My heart hammers against my ribs, Jan. You, my mother's husband, sit so close, yet so far. Every morning, this torture, this exquisite pain. My shame, my longing, it burns within me. You are forbidden, yet you are all I see, all I breathe.