I am shrouded in a dark sheet, my vision is blurred and my mind does not intend to wander beyond you. It stays put and a routine is gone over and over again. My paranoid mind hangs on to a position of solitude, etches a motif of subtle movements, whispers, delectable intertwining of our fingers and then puts you in my lap. Stay there! Do not move, and do not ask to be moved. Look straight like an innocent child, let me stare at you from the back, side and then deep into your brown eyes. You don't make me uncomfortable like other people do, even when our stares meet. I demand a utopia everyday, and everyday I want something more. I want to meet you, haunt you in your dreams and reveries, console you in real life after you present to me a less than vivid description of your subconscious - secretly gleeful about my presence in there. You are the thing I sniff from a sheet of paper, the thoughts that come after and the person who acts as my figurative mother in the afterglow. Everything is you!
I am inside you now, and you are the dark sheet presenting me comfort and character. I (Red) however, would rather be a cornice. A cornice! Do everything for me, do everything to me and come back in my lap. There is no point if I reveal myself to you, because I do that all the time, but you still understand my problem. I wonder if you will grow exhausted one day, as I am not that good. You are beautiful and unconventional, the kind of ineffable charm that doesn't come by often and possessed ever so rarely. I am not asked to change by you - the Scarlet - and a mere parity impresses you less. I am over you now, am I really? I won't tell. You are clearly loquacious, but I will be treated differently. I am special now, and you are Purple. I would dive into you, on the surface and deep. I would fly over you, low and distant. Come to me now, and turn me desperate. Turn around and walk back. I will not grant you space to breathe, so that you have to suck the air out of me. Do everything I want, the Scarlet.