Sounds in the apartment when I'm alone:
Restless traffic on 5th
Water running through pipes behind the bedroom walls
My thoughts (like thunder)
A week since Henry, seven days since he unbuttoned my dress and carelessly threw it on the floor. Seconds away from telling him it was a seriously expensive Alexander McQueen (SS12), he kissed me on the neck and whispered unspeakable words in my ear.
Seven days since he ran his fingers over my body, slowly and softly like California sand. Whenever I close my eyes and try to do it the way he did I can hear his calm breathing and the frou-frou sound of his shirt moving. I remember the darkness and the open window, the blinding sun in the morning and his Chanel Blue. A week since everything and I need to see him again.