It wasn't until last week that I realized who you were. I had missed the tall tell signs of the comings and goings of your every day. The subtle hints left for me on the way out the door. The casual kiss upon the cheek and the nudge on the shoulder. I should have guessed that you had found something new to play with.
I wonder what she looks like. I gathered from the notes left in you shirt pocket that she writes left-handed and that she dots her "I's" with precise dots.She seems prim and proper, minus the fact that she elaborates the reasons why she wants to fuck you. She's rather coarse in her speech. Something that you had never seemed to like in women before. But then again, who am I to judge?
You had found me littered among the other girls. My eyes...That's what you had said. My eyes drew you in, beckoning for me to come forth and take you away to some special place. I laughed at your suggestions. You all but pinched my cheeks and told me that I was the girl you were looking for. You spoke in a fake Chicago accent, making me giggle because you seemed to have know I would melt under the sound. I did. I also melted when you touched me with your fingertips, tracing one cheekbone then the other. It felt soothing. I can still feel the electricity of our skin touching for the first time, as the rain pelted on the windows. It was early spring.
My mind comes back though. The notes look like white leaves on our floor. The papers were from her own personal desk. They have her initials on them. She must work with you. Now I realize what the long hours were for, why you showered when came home. You didn't realize that I could still smell the hint of lavender even from your briefcase. But tonight - tonight will be different.
You will realize that even though she tells you she wants to fuck you in every way imaginable, that she gets herself off during lunch hour after your meetings together and that you are actually still in love with me. That you still want me.
I plan for an elegant dinner. Candlelight. A bit of jazz in the background. I will be wearing my hair down, the light from the candles will make it burn like fire. Your nice Oxford shirt will be my dress, along with the black thigh highs and heels that drive all men nuts. Dinner will be amazing. A fresh salad to begin with. Then the main course: steak. But we both know what is next - dessert. I have a wonderful dessert for you - served with love, devotion and a hint of lavender. Don't be surprised when you take the lid off....you shouldn't have kept them in your suit jacket.
