Penetrate the Silence
The song is finished, the partiers are gradually leaving the room, and still she insists on repeating that one riff over and over. If she is then I am too because it’s connecting us. This improvisation leaves us panting, glimmering with perspiration, still wanting more. Our lips remain still; our eyes are greedy. Her fingers, my fingers, explore our instruments, caressing those particular strings, the three notes repetitious but all the more exciting because of it. Weird feedback fills the empty room—even our bandmates have left now—and I know I’ll never be able to mention this intimacy to my girlfriend.
