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An object in my room

I objectively object the object within the confines of four walls, the hardness of the surface and the heat that vibrates from it creating energy, so vibrational, so functional, so within the grasps of my hand, set upon my palm and grasped by my long, lengthy fingertips. I yearn for it in the midst of hating it, I am connected to it in a non sensical way that it constantly calls upon me even in my moments where I dive deeply into the night. It is your tones and your low hums that turn you on, it is the slide of my fingers across your face and the tight squeeze of your body that awakens your being. I lust for your energy and i crave the applications of your soul up on mines. It is you, my lovely iphone to which continuously connects me at every disconnect. 


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