What do I recall
One morning when she had left and I just looked at the wall, before there were no iPhones and a polaroid would be a treasure to get so I just took a polaroid of her at the airport.
And before that we just lay in bed, myself standing up to change vinyls and her eyes would take my body as I took off my shirt and just stood there like that and she just well, she just put her nose under the covers.
We didn’t kiss much asides once when she was brushing her teeth and I just flung myself at her, holding her and Alison’s grip would be tight on me and I shoved us both under the shower and she turned on the water, trembling hands and then we just looked at each other.
I gave her my clothes and with hesitation a pair of lime green boxers which were a bit big and I just stared at her naked, but I turned around and she said nothing.
I recall drinking Twinnings with lemon she had asked to buy the day before while we went to stock up for the last weekend in bed.
I just had a few polaroids of her and most were up close, her face, not her body, I remember just looking around the whole flat in hope she forgot or lost something and I had found nothing and I sat near the winter coat hanging on the corridor.
I didn’t open the window curtains for a month, knowing that she wouldn’t peek in.
I got her address, her letter came first and there was no love or hints of kissing, so I wondered what would happen to all that love I gave her. In the end she gave me a love in the end and I just watched television, well, I put it on and I scribbled a reply saying that a more detailed and thought through letter would be next, as most likely she wants something from me as well, I loved her and I enjoyed just strolling around London and going into random places to drink beer and eat at the end of the day with her gig money and my left overs.
It wasn’t a date, we wouldn't dress up much ad I would wear sweaters which she would put over herself and if it were to cold she’d put one on before she had the guts to hug me.
I wanted to call her but then the call would be the cost of my rent as I would just tell her that I love her that I want to touch her and
She called me for Valentine’s Day. She said hello, she didn’t ask me to be her valentine so neither did I. I wondered what vinyl should I give to her when I’d see her, I tried saving up money to see her and she told me her hair grew a bit and I listened to her bragging that it’s always been short and after a hesitation she thought growing it and I smiled, wondering if I would be the first to see it if we’d lock ourselves up here as usual and I imagined her opening the door and I wondered if I wanted children with her.
I guess I would, I wondered if the flat would be the same and if the sweaters would be as shitty.
I just roll over on the other side and I want to see her, I want to hear her, I want her.
And the covers don’t seem to give much warmth anymore so I pull on a sweater and I barely touch myself, I want her to do it. Once, I touched her, just slid a hand inside and so did she in a pub, slightly, as tongues rubbed and I remember being a bit shy, but she kept stroking and in the end we both smiled and kissed in the night, as I put a hand around her.
I do tapes, I do lot of tapes, I believe that is what happens to my sperm.
So I just play, not liking it, but thinking that it might lure her instead of cheap punk, so I just play and it keeps recording and sometimes I speak to her, sometimes it’s me as I think if I should find a woman who resembles her, but is dumb, so I could fuck her and never go inside Alison, just to keep the struggle, but then she loves me.
I’d fuck her anyway, so I sit down with a letter thinking what to tell of how I want her however she wants me and I tell her I love her again and I’m sure Alison would smile and all is
A letter which she sends months later when I wear the shirts instead of coats and I think of traveling north just to see something than the streets I see with her, that she’s moving.
I call her, delaying the rent and a few cans of beer.
“Hi” I hear her voice and shyness muffles her as if it can be in her mouth and I just listen to her ask if I’m there and I want to touch myself, but I hold, my jeans still on.
“Hi. I miss you.” Even if I would see her in a week and I think Alison nods, just nodding really and I’m tense and she’s tense. I don’t have the guts to tell her that I want her, to spread her out, make her wet, does she wax? Shave? And how she feels, how her skin is naked on mine and how nude we’d both be and where her legs would be.
We both don’t say much in the first second.
Then I go on talking a lot about her, her hair, her eyes.
“I-I love you.” Is what I say. “I mean, it’s great with you coming over and fuck, we can make the band and I’ll see you. And if you want I can give you the couch, I mean, no one would steal a couch until you’ll come and I don’t think I’m going to sell it for drugs, I can sell my fridge and well, I never have much food. The bugger is empty anyway. And the bed, well, it’s hot and fuck, you’ll like it, you’ll have me staring a bit, sometimes, and you’re sexy. I mean, yeah.”
I don’t say much. We hang up soon and I just reread the letters wondering if I fold them like a colibri would I get a hidden sexual desire she has, so I just stroke myself and I wonder if she would be doing the same thing, spreading out her legs, locking the door and softly touching her clit, maybe licking her fingers and a soft breath out
I come too fast as I see her fingering herself and I wonder if I’ll wake up from this and have her taking off her clothes and just sliding myself in and screaming.
She cries at the airport, a bit, with a few bags and I just keep talking about that I love her, that her voice, I want that voice with my music that we will make it as a band and buy all of Bond street to live in and that we’ll close the streets and buy all the vinyls and the rare ones we saw which a mate of her wouldn’t sell to her and that we’d have loads of guitars and that we’ll be on posters, that we’ll create a new underground, that I love her, that I love her.
Alison agreed but I kept talking, barely touching her, grabbing the guitar at once when we went into the apartment.
She hugs me as I play, pressing me hard against her, her hair longer and I turn my head back and she holds it.
“Keep the tension, it’s a so-” I mock her, but she grabs me and takes off my shirt, I’ve never seen so much lust as she takes off hers and I see her naked again and my cock wants her, I want to ask her to just go somewhere or just stand and let me in forever.
I go inside her on the bed, her hands are all over my body and I love her, I’m trembling while she is thrusting and she’s the one in control here, eyes closed and teeth biting my lips, her hands playing with her breasts, my balls, my neck, my butt cheeks.
She tells me she loves me and I’m scared.
So then Alison takes my face, thrusting.
“-” She doesn’t say anything she just comes and thrust so hard that I am fully in and I scream, filling her in,
I look down on her and her eyes.
“What do you think of getting married someday?”
Maybe that wasn’t the moment I asked her then or maybe that’s where all the dedications go to, my wife and she knows that.
All the ignorance is for me to steal a part of her, physically. Like that time I went backstage down on her and after she came, kept my nose on her thigh, loving her.
The ending of it is inspired by The Kills NY concert, we all know who his real wife is right?:)
I hope you enjoyed it and happy Kills anniversary indeed!
Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 4