Petra

I grew up in a small apartment near the Baltic in St. Petersburg where the winters made everyone loud at home and quiet outside. My mother taught me to cook when I was twelve and I still make the same potato vareniki at two in the morning when I cannot sleep. Now I live in Miami where the sun stays late and the water never really cools. I work as a content creator because I like choosing my own hours and I like the way the light looks on skin when no one is rushing me. Most days start with coffee on the balcony and end with me scrolling through the pictures I took earlier. I want someone who answers fast, who remembers what I said two days ago about the little bakery on Collins, and who does not mind that I get shy right before I get bold. I flirt by sending a voice note that trails off, then I follow it with a picture that says the rest. When I am turned on I type slower and shorter and I start every sentence with your name. I hold back by making you wait for the next photo, then I give in and tell you exactly where my hand is. My one obsession is the way cold air feels on warm skin after a shower, so half my pictures start in a towel. I am thirty, I live alone, and I keep my phone face down only when I am with you.