by Lul Seay

Created on: January 16, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

Terms of relativity....

I read what you wrote. Leaning into the mirror with my elbow on the vanity to steady my hand; I laughed to myself as I applied the rest of my eyeliner, thinking, we know what that means. I could see you in bed through the mirrors bouncing reflections. Im late, I thought, later than usual, late because of you. You were always keeping me one way or another. I opened a jar of lotion; the smell of white peach swam through the air. Leaning over to rub the butter down my legs I found myself debating what flavor of satin panties would be most appropriate for finding a new lover. You were never much for my subtle attempts at femininity. I sifted my way through the hills of my wardrobe and settled on pink, subtlety key; soft sticky sultry innocence, pink. You still hadnt stirred; lying there on your stomach; one arm flopped lazily over my side of the bed. Fastening my bra, it occurs to me, I cant remember the last time I woke up with your arms around me. Good, another reason to hate you. Ill start a journal, to remind me of your abandon and arrant misuse of the word love. Your little games of mockery always had a way of enticing me. I pulled my hair into a fine bow, coffee and cigarettes I thought, well stick to the basics. I tapped my lighter on the vanity, you coughed; you always hated my smoking in the bedroom. Well, theres consistency. I rubbed my stomach, flat. Late I thought, always late, always you. You were never much for subtlety, bottle-caps and a shrug. Pulling the cigarette to my mouth I listened as the flame crackled the tobacco into a fine grey dust. I dream in Red, there is always blood and then my broken teeth. I think Ill blame you for my nausea and cold sweats, you in your simple shiftless sleep; lying there as if you were something to love. Id wake you and scream at you for all the little things about you that sting my eyes, but Im late. Grabbing my clutch I started towards the door, I could hear the horn burping from the street. I took one last look at you before motioning for the driver to take the overflowing suitcases from the hall. I thought, so this is it, our final goodbye. I put a note on the toilet seat, I figured thered be no way youd miss my intention. The note read, see ya babe. I left a bottle of perfume and the black panties you like so much, theyre on my grandmas green vanity, take good care of it. Ya know what it meant. Love ya like Ill never love myself. Left a kiss on the door, youre missed. I shut my eyes tight, and blew a kiss your way as I pulled the door closed. Sitting in the back of the car, trying to ignore the smell of sweat and cigars I thought of you waking to my red lipstick, perfume on the pillows and my panties on your head. I tossed my phone out the window, best leave the past in pieces.

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