matt healy and the jetsons

read it or I'll delete it

I wore all silk for you. A silk coat from my distant family, unmentionables, all bought at full price. I called in sick at work that day, and made an appointment at the salon. I’m bored of my hair, I told the stylist. pheobe bridgers platinum blond. He only did the tips. wore a black dress with a neck that hid parts of me, covered myself up with a long grey coat. turned up at your door, and you showed up in a soft blue shirt. linen.

your feet hurt don’t they

but I also like how they look.

come upstairs. 

aren’t there people?

I told them to leave. 

really

yes, when you called. 

why didn’t you call

it wasn’t right 

is that how you felt?

would be a sin to covet you 

why do boys pledge themselves so dutifully to other men 

not other men. I’ve got to have a moral code of my own. if i didn’t, I’d be like my father. 

your home was cleaner than I expected. you admitted you had help. I’m pretty possessive about other people ordering him around, I don’t like it, you said and laughed.  

you wore a cardigan over the shirt, opened a bottle of wine. sat by my side on a stool. adjusted the dim lights. I let you take off my stockings. I let you bite my thigh. 

no one’s to blame for the rest of that night. you played, be my mistake on a soft loop, the speakers hid inside the ceiling, almost if god had a guitar and sang us to sleep. 

now i know you don’t hate adventure. 

I hate humiliation. 

you mean vulnerability. 

i mean, humiliation. 

your sink was a thick marble slab. i wore all silk to your apartment. you disposed of it all too soon. changed the music too fast when i played a song i liked. don’t ruin this song, you said. i don’t want you to remember this every time you play it. 

but of course, i’ll remember it. 

no, time will pass and some part of you will forget how this night felt. 

you underestimate me. 

no, of course, you’ll set it down on paper and post it on substack a year later. 

i don’t have a substack. 

yet. 

okay, yet. 

yes, so when you do have it, you will write about it in vivid detail. i know your modus operandi. 

play fair. 

you know i’ll think about you every night starting henceforth

I don’t know you enough to know whether that will be true

look at me. it’s true.