he.

Delilah's five fat fingers clutched the edge of the immaculate bathroom sink. With the door open, she could hear the rain pelting the window as if it wanted to shatter the glass and take the place of the tears that would not fall, that had not fallen. Her head hung helplessly, hopelessly towards her chest. Her long brown hair barely grazed the snowy porcelain as she tried to avoid choking on the unforgiving smell of Clorox. Her knees were shaking.
It had been so long.

The porch swing creaked, harmonizing with the cicadas hidden in the small garden. His garden. His lips brushed her ear as He sang softly, His hands gently plucking the guitar. His guitar. Her dress shivered in the nighttime breeze. The stars danced.
His hands stopped. The three words. His words. Then no pen. No paper. The three words. Her words. From her lips. They met midair.
The stars exploded.
She ran her fingers through His hair. The kitchen scissors steadied despite her shaking hands. Her tears mingled with the homeless locks as they fell into the dark garden. His garden. She cut His hair.
The next morning she was gone.

Delilah raised her head and found her dry eyes staring back at her. Dry since then. Two years dry.
I am free.
Free from what?
I am free.
He loved you.
I am free.
Who do you have now? The ex-Vegas performer? That creepy girl with the stand? The crack whores and gangsters and hobos and con artists? The murderers and thieves and motherless children?
I am free.
The rain continued to pelt the dark windows. The florescent light above the mirror flickered. The rest of the apartment was dark.
Delilah walked carefully to the shower. She pushed the red shower curtain aside, stepped in and out of the bathtub five times, and then turned the water on. The cold water slid down her spine like winter rain. She lathered her long, brown hair five times. Her fat fingers wrinkled like linen. She got out.
Forgetting her nightly routine, Delilah went shivering in the dark to her small bedroom. Hair dripping like a faucet, she slipped into crisp pajamas and sank into the expensive mattress. She fluffed her pillow five times before dampening it with her sopping head.
She lay awake with her dry eyes open. Her mind wandered to Sunday school in Annapolis.
He had been there.
God grant me the seren–
Enough.