after Jack Vettriano’s “The Letter”
I told me that I just didn’t love me any more--
that maybe I never did. I was just trying to want
me, but I couldn’t pretend any longer. I told
me that I never meant to hurt me, which was a lie,
as usual. Then I sighed, folded the note, and left
it for myself on the coffee table. I changed
into my long white dress and strapped on
my summer sandals. For effect, I lit a cigarette
that I didn’t smoke. When I came back into the living
room, I found the note on the table. I read it slowly,
feeling each word’s weight sink into my lungs.
Then I laid back on the couch and let the letter
hang from my dangling hand. I had never felt
so lifeless. “Don’t move. That’s perfect,” Jack said.
Katie Manning is Editor-in-Chief of Rougarou and a doctoral fellow at UL-Lafayette. Her poems have been published in PANK, Poet Lore, Right Hand Pointing, So to Speak, and Word Riot, among other journals and anthologies, and she was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize.