Page 120 of With Stars in Her Eyes
“Are you making me re-create some orchestral-themed porno fantasy?”
“Would you mind if I were?” I kissed one cheek, then the other and continued to find new places I hadn’t kissed yet on her neck and collarbone, always missing her lips at the last second.
“Probably not.” Frustrated with the teasing, Courtney caught my mouth in a playful kiss and then rolled to sit. “What should I play?”
I rolled over onto my back and wrapped an arm around one of her thighs. “The song of your soul.”
Courtney snorted. “Guess it’s kicked in for you.” She seemed unable to resist the challenge. She slipped away from me and sat behind her instrument without a hint of shame. I propped myselfon my elbow, completely transfixed as Courtney’s bow moved over the strings.
Courtney had played this song.
She hadn’t sung it. She had played it like the only thing that existed in the universe were the strings beneath her fingers and the bow as it swept over them.
It began with a cello solo on the track too. It was exactly the kind of song that might be featured in the sort of prestige television soundtrack moment that even someone like Marshall could appreciate.
It’s seventy-five and he’s on LA time
Leading you down to that secluded coastal climb
After he took your face into his sweaty hand,
he said yes that you were fine
You were folded while he scored you like a ticket meant to be torn—
his lies left you on a table in the storm
Shivering cold, feeling a million years old
Just bloodstained trash made grittier with sand.
So you struck out into the wildest of waters,
Let any blinding beacons fade
You found the stars in your eyes
were enough of a guide
To a new endless horizon miles away
from every mess you ever made
You might always be drifting
You might stay windswept and afraid
Your ship might have lost its anchor
But you can be its astrolabe.
Heels held by stainless steel
Cheap body wrapped in a thin pink gown
“Just breathe, honey, it’s almost over,
I need you to settle down.”
