Pale Blue Eyes2

I tremble because now she has a name in my head and now she can even speak and smile and I’ll recall her hairstyles even if I will mix which came first and which didn’t. So Agyness kicks me out on the street as the day ends and the night colours the streets faintly as the day still holds like a rubber and the clouds and Edinburgh is just as light as day if to think.

I smile at her and I turn around to walk back home, turning right and walking past Waterstones and the destroyed roads for the tracks and I feel bad for not stopping and talking with her and I end up turning around to see her beaten up black docs with white shoelaces mixed with yellow and her short shorts which literally reveal her legs and her buttcheeks so I stop and look, waiting for her to turn around but she doesn’t so I sit on the pavement and light a cigarette, nervous, exhaling the smoke and wondering why won’t I be among the people who tweet or take photos before they get drunk to show fake smiles on facebook, instead I sit at home and play the guitar sometimes.

I came back home and I chopped my fringe, my money running short with all the coffee I am buying from her and I chew some gum as I am not allowed to smoke for the coffee and I tell myself that the landlady doesn’t want smoke when she is a smoker herself.

Instead I despite myself and blow smoke onto the mirror, holding my mouth open, wide open and tying my hair into a messy ponytail and heading off to sleep, well, trying to.

I keep strumming my fingers, not touching the guitar to wake early tomorrow and a hand crawls to my pajama pants as I hear Jamie unlock the door as the stale smoke of alcohol and cigarettes crawl up my nose and he just walks towards my bed and falls, saying how he feels and I stroke his hair and kiss it afterwards.

Jamie sits up and I see a small hole on the sleeve of his jacket and I realize that it’s new and that it has holes all over which I can stick my fingers through so I do and I pull him on top of me, playing with the alcohol in his body and he burps in my face, laughing and then he sits up.

“Jack.” And he says nothing and takes a cigarette from my half empty box.

“Doesn’t like me.” And he makes smoke rings which he would cook for dinner and I pull the pillow over me, wondering how would it feel if I had been the one to deny instead of him and the rubs the hair together which is seen from the pillow and smiles at me slowly, smoking the cigarette, burning his fingers as he slowly opens his eyes and blows it out like a candle.

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Pale Blue Eyes3