Diary of a Human Read Online Free PDF Page B

my unworthy fingertips along her marble cheekbones, and down her jaw.
    But not even her tendrils are willing to be tamed.
    The weatherman claimed it was cold outside, but I didn’t feel a thing.  Her eyes smoldered into mine, her eye-lock never wavering.
    I’m always confident at the end of the night.  She had controlled the evening with her captivating conversation and facility with the language I so hungered to hear.
    But the night belongs to Aries, not Cancer.
     
    5.2//wanting
     
    No one realizes the torture of wanting that which you cannot have so have so well as I.  She reclines in my bed, a fingertip’s breath away, her radiating smile haunting even my daydreams.  Her poetic face may flicker beyond the candle-lit shroud that halos the room, but no one can deny her that smile.
    I woke up with a hangover form that smile.
    Her snowy flesh betrays the strength hidden within delicate and delicious exposed bone.  I could drink her skin all evening into the early hours when the sun refuses to stay in bed.
     
     
    5.3//the player and the fool
     
    She only stares at me when I do not look upon her.  But when we kiss, when I kiss her, I feel.  There are no words.  But I suddenly know I’m not going through the motions.  All my thoughts focus on that moment and the movement of lips and tongue, gently massaging hers with my own, our lips dancing for the first time.  I feel her body move against mine and my senses overload.
    Even now when my thoughts roam to her, my hands on her hipbones and hers tripping along my stomach, there is a stirring within my body that transforms to a jolt.
    She calls me a player and I find her the fool.  She paints my portrait in the form of a better-forgotten past rather than an optimistic future. 
    She never looks to me directly, only through mirrors and other altered reflections as if fearful that my piercing gaze could melt the fences she has constructed around her fragile heart.
    She fears I’ll play her like these tired strings, but I know the truth.  My fingertips are callused from playing the same repetitious tune.  When will the song end?  Only she has the power to snap shut the lid of this music box and save me from myself.
     
     
    5.4//father time
     
    This morning I lay in bed, awake, while the world outside passed me by.  The moments turned to minutes turned to hours turned to sunlight fading.  Try as the rest of the world might to jar me from this solace, I turned a deaf ear to its persistent ringing and knocking all around me.
    Life rumbled by beyond the windowpane, in dire of a new muffler, but my reality was muffled by the softness of your snowy skin and buried under mountains of unmovable flannel.
    The heat of your body betrayed the iciness of the early morning, and I felt consumed and scorched within your innocent embrace.  I remained a prisoner belted beneath leather straps and stretched denim, despite how my bare flesh flamed to feel your fire.
    But regardless of my costume, I will continue to exist as such – a slave to Father Time and His delicate mistress, Patience, and will thus remain until the day you can finally see my true face with undistorted vision.
     
     
    5.5//little yellow box
     
    My thoughts have been taken prisoner and a ransom exists for my emotions.  I hear a familiar guitar riff and am catapulted to a moment from which I cannot escape.  My body is pinned beneath yours, pinned against a sapphire blue wall, but I do not wish to ever evade your form.
    So I run away to hide in my little yellow box, hidden from the micromanaging of an overly demanding supervisor, sitting in silence, and hidden from you.  The only sounds, my hollow breathing and the pulsing thud of my heart, spitting rhythms in my ears.  The overhead light buzzes, and I shield my eyes from the harshness of its glow.
    My heart is out of shape. And with you, it runs a marathon.
     
     
    5.6//only when we sleep
     
    My throat has gone raw from singing your praises.  My