mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary

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we were invincible then

Touch. She covers me, rich cream on milk. She pervades my dreams and I wonder if maybe maybe maybe I haven't made her into a symbol of something else altogether. Maybe I just love the symbol. Metonymy? Is that what it's called? Granting a symbol the characteristics of that which it symbolizes? This symbol breathes and moves and twitches in her sleep. I take one step. I take two steps. I take three steps and I can't feel anything but the thud of pavement under my feet, the beat that echoes the rapid patter of my heart. Sight. A flash of gorgeous light in the deep, heavy darkness. A flash of gorgeous fucking light that distracts from the trecherous fangs and outstretched arms. I see nothing. I see nothing. I've kept my eyes screwed shut for a long time now. Smell. The mingling aromas of sunlight and nauseating sweetness and rough sex and just beneath, a faint note of something bitter and toxic. My stomach turns, and I breathe in deep. Taste. Salty bronze skin, the juice running from the corners of her lips like nectar. The flavor of the morning after, lingering in the back of your throat for months. You'll swallow anything to wash it away. Sound. A coquettish giggle that explodes through walls, comes pouring down from the ceiling. The nearly inaudible sound of skin gliding on skin, the anxious wail of friction that breaks glass a mile away. Your scream is music, the steady thump of bass in your pulse. I shatter into a thousand glimmering shards on the dance floor.

- I haven't trusted anyone in a long time. Don't make it personal, but how could I? When actions say one thing and the coy downturn of your eyes says another? When physical distance becomes something else altogether? When I've been dying a little bit everyday and you're aching to pull the plug? How could I, when I've given everything and gotten meaningless reassurances in return? How could I?

2:33 p.m. - 2004-05-17

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