The song didn’t have words, but I knew them well, and as the strange man with his head between my legs licked me, I sang harder and harder until. Customers drank their thirty-dollar drinks and watched as I sang. My knees were spread farther apart than physically possible. The fact that the real hotel didn’t have a piano on the roof notwithstanding, I was on it and naked from the waist down, propped on my elbows. I was on top of a grand piano on the rooftop bar of Hotel K. Ĭover Art designed by the author “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” Lyrics by Cole Porter CHAPTER 1.Īt the height of singing the last note, when my lungs were still full and I was switching from pure physical power to emotional thrust, I was blindsided by last night’s dream. Any similarities to places, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. “Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.
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