I am the pale crescent moon and the darkness that cloaks my porcelain body. There’s a riddle in my eyes, and midnight shadows in my every movement. This place is my secret garden, where forbidden, honey-sweet flowers bloom not for another, but for me — as wild as I am beautiful. There is no room here for the weight of dull routine. Only hushed whispers, quickened breaths, the touch of silk-soft skin, and games that race the pulse. I am desire incarnate, a dance between light and shadow — a dream you dare not wake.