so you do

please, the weather is bad,
call me when you get there,
I tell her
as she slams
the trunk shut,
her last piece of luggage
tossed in. she's wet,
it's raining.
go easy, rest when you can.
no rush to get
where you're going.
do you have everything?
did you check
the bathroom? the kitchen,
under the bed?
goodbye, she says,
wiping rain from her face.
whatever I've left, just
keep or throw away.
I won't be coming back.
you try to kiss her on
the lips but she turns
her head. she puts a stiff
hand on your chest.
don't she says. it's over.
no need to pretend anymore.
in fact, don't even wave. okay?
just go back inside
to your life and let me
drive away. so you do.