Well there is this italian girl.

I taped her sounds on a disc.

Naturally she screamed when she came. But it wasnt just the volume that got me -more than I care to admit.

It was what was in the scream: loneliness, longing, lust, total abandon besides the enormous release. Apparently there is a saying in italian about cleaning webcows (would be grateful if someone could give me the correct italian expression) after such an encounter.

I fell in love with her. I guess I still love her; meaning that I want her to be as happy as she possibly can, even if that is without me -and yes it still hurts realising that that seems to be her choice.

Anyway she is in the bank. Deeply hacked in stone; for now there is a permanence to her memory.

What made it more permanent is that I endlessly replay the encounter to somehow reconnect with the feeling. Trying to discover new meanings in her moans, just admiring her abandon in giving herself to me -not just physically. Really lovely night - one of my best.

Now I console myself with the thought that possibly its better to have one like this in the bank, and take the remorse of her not being with me anymore on the chin, than have no memory at all....

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