It wasn't how we rehearsed it.

The smoke and sweat and smells of cheap beer and adrenaline fill my nostrils, intoxicating, pushing forward, and…

And you are walking towards me, strutting, lofty, too high to be reached, a prince, a god, a savior, taking your sweet damned time with each footstep that takes too long, everything moving in slow motion with the blood that's rushing through my head, searching for a home, for something to hang onto; I'm trembling, lungs burning, the mic slipping in my sweaty hand, up and down, and…

I don't care who is around or where we are or what part of the fucking song it is, I want, I crave, I feel, taste, wet, now, need, I need this, please Edge, don't back away, now, fuck, now…

I'm crawling for you, Edge, on my knees, loping like an animal, shoulders diving up and down with the rhythm, "la da da," just sounds, no words, grunts, primal, I'm here Edge, I'm here to not care about what you feel, how good it is, I'm here to satisfy myself and I feed, need, I need, I need…fuck

I'm here to take and conquer and make you fucking moan my name and not give two fucking shits about anything but this, make you have to hold your breath with the vibrations that your amp sends back to your guitar, make you bite your lip and have to wait for me, but I need this now….

Crawling up, pulling up, kicking, kicking and needing more, and reaching, grabbing, forcing you still, you're trying to snatch your guitar away, I can feel the heat between…

I can't feel, I can't hear the thousands of roaring fans or the beat of the bass, I just feel metal wires under my tongue and the vibrations, just like when you moan when sucking my cock, it's the same feeling, Edge, isn't it, and…

And don't try to back away, don't, don't, dig my fingernails into the flesh under your shirt, pulling you in and closer, and does it hurt, Edge, shoving the strings under my tongue, am I hurting you like you hurt me, you fucking tease, faster, more, now…

Your hand has almost stopped playing, just picking out a few notes to keep things moving, but I don't fucking care, I need this Edge, let me lick and suck and I want to hear you beg to me as soon as the lights out, I want you to pull me off my knees and tell me to fucking get up, that I would give us away and I needed to wait till after the show, and that you would make me pay for this, and that I would like it, that - that your lips would be soft on my ear when you kissed me in the blackout and - oh fuck, Edge, not here, please, we have less than two seconds till they're back on and you know what your tongue does and oh fuck.

The next song starts.



(c) Kate Finneran 2004

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