I drive against the wind
and watch the wheat bend
racing away
in the opposite direction.

I see the solar glare
stain my rearview mirror.
It is almost blinding,
reminding
me
of the glint
in her glasses.

It is nice to drive away.
Even though,
I was ready to stay,
she took that
decision away,
but I’m ok.

I wash my work clothes,
then softly scrub
the last remnants
of her perfume
from my tired flesh.

I erase
everything
she ever sent me,
every message,
every picture,
but I can't
bring myself
to delete
the seven digits
that could still
connect us.

I'm ready to move on
but not ready
to move on that far,
not yet.