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Wetness hides under my hijab. Sometimes I imagine wetness spreading under my hijab, until my lips open, spilling sounds I can’t hold back. I stay wrapped, but my body wants more. My thighs keep moving, trying to hold the wetness in. My anklet moves higher, like it knows how open I feel. It makes me breathe harder, like I can’t hold it all in. I love knowing I can be this wet and still hidden. I write because it’s how I let someone near what wetness hides under my hijab.
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