MAD BLACK WOMAN

LONGING

Élan misses her affection like summertime.

She is all shine and light skies, happiness, mirth, beauty, and her love is that enveloping, oppressive, summertime heat that makes his insides tingle.

Her love is that golden haze hindsight of nostalgia when winter arrives, sweeps away the remnants of warmth with her icy cold breath and all that is left is memories. His heart aches for Nanti.

The dancing thing, that is a break in her stoicism. A weakness that parallels her calling him by his beloved nickname.

Now, he must approach her with caution, because if he appears too desperate or asks for too much, she will grow colder. He cherishes her in minute intimate gestures, sniffing the sheets from where she lay at night, feeling the warmth whenever she removes herself from the couch, he feels like a puppy trying to satisfy his owner.

Maybe he is, in a bizarre way. Hell, he'll wear a collar if she will call him a good boy.

He misses her in his lap and rubbing his back and kissing him in the junction between his neck and jaw.

He misses seeing her smile, hates the weary glances she gives him like he's an annoying child.

He longs for the feeling of her teeth against his earlobe, so gentle, so teasing, then gone. Absent.

She's in the shower when he thinks this, laying on his back, daydreaming of how they used to be. Then the door opens and tufts of steam rise from the bathroom when she exits; they swallow the room, making the temperature increase on top of the summertime heat.

Inescapable like being in love.

She's part wet, deep brown skin and part luxury towels, one wrapped around her head and it's counterpart wrapped around her frame. A layer of luxurious Egyptian cotton against her and smelling as lovely as gold. His heart flutters a bit.

"Nanti," His voice sounds like a plea but that too is inescapable.

"Élan." Her voice is indifference.

He doesn't know what to say. He knows what he wants, that's for sure. Her in his lap and wanting him just as bad as he wants her. He knows she is still upset and embarrassed from everything they as a couple have been through, but how long will that last before it at least begins to fade?

He feels like desperation embodied when he removes himself from the bed and stares down at her with all of the longing he can muster up. He doesn't make any sudden moves, just passes her and retreats into the bathroom to shower. If he doesn't hurry, he'll be late for work.

Work is uneventful and slow, he's experiencing the doldrums. His calendar is a countdown to the days up until vacation whilst his mind is on Nanti, Nanti, Nanti.

Nanti smiling, frowning, dry, wet, asleep, awake, loving him, hating him. Nanti.

He doesn't expect her to show up for lunch again but she does. This time, she wears a long fitted creme-colored dress with thin straps, and her signature skinny heel. Her hair is coiffed into elegant finger waves, soft lips, full lashes, almost bushy brows. To him she looks like a mirage. Untouchable.

All eyes are on her again though this time she doesn't make such a scene, just meekly enters his office and waits for him to accompany her.

"I think I summoned you. All I thought of today was you," he says fanatically.

She looks at him with one brow high.

"We can go out to eat." She says.

"Out to eat" equates to a little quaint vegan shoppe a few blocks away from his office. It's attractive, has ambiance, but in an organic way. A fresh breeze calms the sticky heat.