We don't talk about Carl, whenever I mention his name she quickly changes the subject or pretends not to hear me from across the room. I'm anxious to know more but her silence and insecure body language speaks volumes too. I can only guess what drove them apart in the end and made her go all the way to New York to see me.
"Write about my outfit" she says. It's a towel but on her it looks like a little black dress and she knows it. We sit opposite each other on the bed listening to Let it bleed in the dark, the curtains closed to block out the daylight, somehow mimicking those moments I shared with him years ago when we were both children. Maybe she knows, but she plays along and looks up at me from under her hair just like he used to do and I smile back, just like I used to.
She gets up from the bed, puts on matching underwear and dances barefoot over the black marble floors in the hallway just outside my room. When I close my eyes and listen I can hear her softly singing along with the lyrics, almost like a whisper:
I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away