The Prototype

To the women who have fallen in love with their reflection in the mirror.

i want to be her

i want the curves of her hips

and the smallness of her waist

i want the smoothness of her skin

the way it glimmers in sunlight 

i want the voluminous feel of her hair

i envy how it sways in the breeze on a windy day

i want her confidence, 

the way she struts with every step 

guiding her as if she were on the runway 

i want the power of her voice, 

how she can command a conversation 

no matter the subject at hand 

and have every soul at attention

she is an entity

she can make you experience emotions so real that 

you didn’t know if you had them before 

she can breathe life into the dimmest forces 

with a single word or phrase

she never fails to impact you in some way

whether it be her smile, her shadow, or simply her presence

she has an essence like a drug, one that can leave you 

wanting and waiting for days at a time 

she has eyes that can hypnotize you, the very irises 

of an optical illusion

she has a touch that melts you from the inside out

you're drawn to her, but you have no idea as to why

you often imagine what it would feel like 

to have her aura

you have so many questions for her

yet you never ask

you always wonder how she did it

you spend countless hours

playing out what might’ve happened

in your head that made her become who she is

you can’t help but fantasize

after all you know her like no one else does

you smile in satisfaction, knowing she is you

and you are her