(Hooked up)

“But baibe loving you never came with an instruction manual. Though I swore to stick with you through tough times and tough times. Baibe, I’m leaving you. Breaking you is the least I want to do. Baibe, sometimes, you have to walk away, for you to be treated right.”

I sat there. On the cold precipices of the floor, watching her ass bounce off the carpet like a ball of mercury on water meniscus, strides headed to the door. Tears strangling her eyelids. Hiding her gaze from me. Heart beating, hoping that I’ll race towards her and say, “Baibe, please, give me another chance…” Block the door maybe, Wipe her tears too, and say, “baibe, I’m sorry.. Please stay”

But I just sat there. Stared blankly at her. At the piece of her. Gazing at the meat of her, which more than once, I have devilishly devoured and conquered sumptuously, mouth watering with saliva, tongue getting wet with her juices, her breaths, beaming in spotlights of spasms. Her nails hearkening to the rhythm of my pelvic as it glided all the way down. Giving me temporary birthmarks on my back. Sweat trickling, the scent of her animal instincts. She just laid there. Tongue doing what it does best. Hands stretched, folding the mountains of her breasts. Thighs wrapped warmly tight. I just sat there and did nothing.

Her pace slowed. Her suitcase packed. In that sane moment when her hands reached the doorknob., I said, “wait… I was hoping you didn’t pack your favourite panty, and the lingerie I got you on Christmas eve..” I never wanted her to take them for another man to enjoy. I wanted to have them. I knew there could be a slightest of chance of missing her. In those moments I might wear them. Look myself in the mirror, and see her. Touch myself, and see me touching her. She said nothing. Just took some deep breaths. And walked out.

So when Linah banged the door, she got into her car, it angrily veered off, leaving soot flaunting on the atmosphere. I felt wow. Strangely though, it was a taste of freedom. I took my phone, and dialled Trina’s number.

When the phone rung, Trina was in her room, with her three girlfriends, who sheepishly follow each other like siamese triplets. She was laying on bed painting her nails, doing her make up, even though there wasn’t any date she was going to.

“Helloo Phill…. I’ve missed you. ” She answered the phone while telling her friends to keep their voices low.
“She’s gone…..”
“Alright give me 30 minutes.”

She stood up, put some nice clothes and left. Leaving her friends perplexed.

When Trina got to my place, she found me still seated where Linah had left me. She sat beside me, cajoling me. Telling me that it had worked out like we had planned. So its just the two of us. Even though I felt no need nor desires for her. I felt no remorse for Linah’s departure, who at the same time was headed to her mother’s place.

Her bust brushed my shoulders, she intentionally did it. She came close even though I didn’t want to be near her. No idea why I called her, hoping that the evening quickies in my office would mount to something bigger than just zips and bras. Maybe love. Maybe kids. Maybe nothing. Maybe fake marriage. Maybe serving divorce papers to Linah. Who at the same time, tears still spewing from her eyes, holding on to her phone, browsing through her phone gallery. Thinking, asking herself questions that only I, knew the answers to.

“Why? …. Phill, why?…”

I heard her in my thoughts, but couldn’t respond to her, for beside me Trina was playing house. Streaming her long nails to my legs, scratching the nylon tenderly, getting me hooked up. I didn’t want to. She kept on coming. With her lips thick with lipstick, and face merged in layers of make up, she planted a kiss on my lips, and left a chemical compound, some sort of a viagra or something close. Which disgusted me, and sent chills down my spine, I felt nauseated.

“Come on, Phill, you don’t want me today…? You a boy or a man, Phill…”
She turned my face to her stare, the first thing I noticed was her beauty that lied behind the layers of make up. Eye lashes trimmed thinly like strings, painted with different unnatural colours. I got mad. I was livid. I jut up, carried her from the stairs to my room. Threw her over on the bed. Tore her blouse from her. Struggled with her jeans. I didn’t want anything like a foreplay. I tore her panties off, as she unzipped me up, to let the dragon of a python loosely hanging at the emblem of her thighs. Before it made contact. I retracted.

“No..! Can’t do this. You need to leave”.
“Aiiii Phill, really? We are almost there…”
“I said you should leave.!!!” Shouted as I threaten to throw her out.
She got up and picked her clothes.

As I buckled my trouser. Linah marked all the pictures of her and I, in her phone and hit the delete button.

I reached to my phone and sent her a text,

“Hey, I fucked up real bad. There’s no coming back to us…!”
She read and never replied back. She deleted my number and blocked me from all her networks.

So on Sunday evenings I’ll be stuck at the grills, wising away time with a bottle of whiskey, while speaking poetry to my inside voices. Reminiscing, sometimes we get hooked to the wrong things. We make the tinniest of bad decisions, and it changes us wholly.

***

As written by Phill Ibsen

( Master Of Descriptions )

A Heart_Art_Poetics productions