Lost And Found.

You talk like you’ve done this before—

like directions are beneath you,

like you could navigate me

by instinct,

by ego,

by touch alone.

I let you.

It’s cute.

You take the scenic route—

twice.

You circle like a gentleman burglar,

stealing sighs,

missing treasure.

Still, I admire your commitment

to the long way round.

You’re learning.

Slow is fine.

But baby—read the signs.

Etched low, just where you want to be:

“Property of Pleasure, Proceed With Curiosity.”