According to Plato, most people seek to transcend to eternity by taking the usual route of finding a mate and creating a new family, achieving the only immortality they will know through a continuation of the human race. For others, the beauty they are able to perceive in the human body in all its subtleties becomes the inspiration for a life-long search for beauty in all its forms - the usage of words, pictures, music, ideals. The body is not merely a physical object but a symbol, a representation, a reflection of memory and meaning...
Me, I just have the ability to see beyond the matrix. And it makes me feel so alone.
The bodies were at rest. I’m blinded by his paleness of skin, the saturated shine of his soft coppery curls, the delicacy of his baby scent. I cannot place him in this era, an imaginary object in space, a treasure found deep in snowy mountains of the ice age. I am a biologist and he’s a different species to me. The fact that nature somehow arranged for him to be completely “naked” doesn’t cease to baffle. Yet it’s here all alive and loving Jimi Hendrix and cheesy classics, rapidly consuming protein and anything that could make it if briefly forget his involuntary nakedness. Little chords with hard rock ears tingle my belly. “tu tu tah tah tah tu tah” he is reciting a wee tune to himself and I’m gently taken to vague Muppet Show memories when he suddenly turns his icy blue gaze to catch me off-guard with the boyish smile that I wasn’t quick enough to erase. Bastard.
All the things that he was getting to know. And soon wish he could forget. He pulled me closer and mixed his lips with mine before I could think of anything to say. My charming disease.
Me, I just have the ability to see beyond the matrix. And it makes me feel so alone.
The bodies were at rest. I’m blinded by his paleness of skin, the saturated shine of his soft coppery curls, the delicacy of his baby scent. I cannot place him in this era, an imaginary object in space, a treasure found deep in snowy mountains of the ice age. I am a biologist and he’s a different species to me. The fact that nature somehow arranged for him to be completely “naked” doesn’t cease to baffle. Yet it’s here all alive and loving Jimi Hendrix and cheesy classics, rapidly consuming protein and anything that could make it if briefly forget his involuntary nakedness. Little chords with hard rock ears tingle my belly. “tu tu tah tah tah tu tah” he is reciting a wee tune to himself and I’m gently taken to vague Muppet Show memories when he suddenly turns his icy blue gaze to catch me off-guard with the boyish smile that I wasn’t quick enough to erase. Bastard.
All the things that he was getting to know. And soon wish he could forget. He pulled me closer and mixed his lips with mine before I could think of anything to say. My charming disease.
