Wave Goodbye

Black vinyl seat 

so hot it burns 

the backs of my bare legs.

His car smells of hot plastic,

air freshener and cigars.

“I’ll put your stuff in the boot.”

I nod, pressing my hand

on the blackness

to feel the pain.

“Aren’t you going to wave goodbye?”

I lift my hand 

but don’t look out.

I don’t want to see them 

arms around each other,

smiling.