Prototype

The one. The prototype. The person that ignites fear in you when you lock eyes and they hold their gaze. Eyes burning to you, but it feels so good because you know that look is only for you. So intense you want to withdraw completely and escape. Run away from them just so they can pull you right back in like the first time.

So caught up in their essence you have forgotten who you are. Their touch is on your tongue and your buds are numb for it. And when you daydream about how they kiss, touch, taste, feel... it's all so vivid and real that you feel the tingle in your tummy and your shoulders drop to relax, because they've got you.

Your music becomes a part of how you see them now. When you trace your fingers over their body, you're writing out lyrics which are synonymous with how you view them, and how you want them to view you.

Your own anticipation overwhelms you. You don't like feeling so consumed, but you do. This is your way out of reality. Your thoughts are scrambled and every day life seems so daunting if it doesn't involve them. And you wonder if they're experiencing the same feelings that you are and if that is why, when your lips lock, you feel so complete. Passion surrounds you both, you're over indulgent, and when the two of you are as close physically as two people can be, it still isn't enough.

You're almost in disbelief. How is it that lips can feel so perfect against your own? And how is that hands, like your own, feel new every time they touch you? Make you pulsate. Steal your sensibility.

Everything is them, and they truly are everything... that you wished for certainly. Exclusively your idea of perfection and all yours, isn't that what we all want? Need? The prototype.