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BEDTIME STORIES            <erotic tinged fiction to light your fire>

 

[ THEIR NAMES ALL START WITH K ]

Aidan Baker

 

 

1.

K

   is the letter

in which I fall in love

with

(head  over falling again heels)

the

arms of the letter like unto theirs

the limbs the hands the fingers

the length of their bodies

   it is reaching out

   stepping out

coming walking towards me

waiting to step into my embrace

 the letter

K

 

 

2.

One K was bad for me

(really?) the other I was bad for

the third not even mine

 

one stays with me like

dreams the other I stay with her (I

like to think) the other

 

is too close to be

anything but and even then she's

too far away, a distance

 

temporal and spatial:

it's not being able to touch

any of them because

 

they are all not

here and are unlikely to be

except in my head

 

3.

(Maybe they only exist now in head,

the three of them, anyway; were but to begin with manifestations

of my desire, now again brought to life, warmth, flesh and blood,

breath fogging the mirror of my memory, the reflection of

how they appeared to me, in the past, in time past, how

I created them and made them what they were [to me]

and what they are here, now, on this page.)

 

4.

One's cunt was black haired

and purple-lipped like an eggplant, vibrant,

the colour of a bruise, like she wanted

to be (bruised), although she never told me so.

How was I to know.

The other's was strawberry

blondish and that's all I can approximate

since it was dark and there wasn't much

to see (if only fingers could talk).

The other was so blond as to be

childish and naked and

my cock felt bare inside

her.

 

5.

how can I write about their vaginas

(because I'm a man

 

[it probably never happened

this way anyway

 

{glossing the past

to remember it the way I

would have liked it to

happen}])

 

6.

one was a virgin

    one was a slut

         the other I never knew well

enough to find out

 

 the first showed me

 the concentric red whorls of her organ

 and pointed out the skin of membrane

 which glowed like fingers in a flashlight

 

 the second I felt

 jealous of her past not that she'd had

 other lovers other pricks in her but that

 I couldn't have had her back then when I didn't even know her

 

         the other I never knew well

enough to find out

 

7.

one took my virginity

   (how I gladly gave it up)

   I didn't know what to do

   where to put my knees (my penis

   I knew where to put that (it

   was just getting it there)

the other I took hers

   and I was gentle in the

   taking and I hope she'll

   remember me that way (you

   always remember the first

   (that's what they say)

the third doesn't matter

   and her reluctance

   excited me and who knows

   if she remembers it at all

   (maybe I needn't feel guilty

   if she's forgotten)

 

8.

One is married and gone. One

is just gone, but at least I know

where she is gone to. The other I don't know.

I used to phone her every now and then

(before I misplaced her phone number) and she'd

always say she'd been thinking of me.

 

9.

their names all start with K

they all had the same names I

always had the same name (with them)

Maybe they are all the same person

in different guises different skins

and the reason I fell in love

with them was simply because

their names all start with K

 

 

 

 

'Their Names All Start With K' is from a new collection Aidan has coming out early in 2002- its called WOUND CULTURE and it's available from Unbound Books- check it out

 

 

* archives > view past bedtime stories

* email> the author

 

 * disclaimer > 

 

The editors and creators @ slinkster would like to remind you that views expressed in the slinkster space do not necessarily reflect those portrayed by the slinkster ethos- although- then again……they just might.  If you have a problem with what you have read, we suggest e-mailing the author.  Failing that, drop us a line and we can try and explain ourselves better

 

 

 

 

 

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