~Don't Look Back~

We drew a line in the sand then crossed it in opposite directions.
Passing me, you moved stealthily forward,
your eyes fixed on a future without me.
You passed by with such deliberation,
so fast that when I reached for you
my hand only caught the cool breeze left in your wake.
I shivered unlike any other way I had before,
when I'd felt your gentle wind caress my body.
The temperature, polar opposite  
of that zephyr that cooled me on hot summer days.
It carried with it a different scent, the taste unfamiliar.  
It took on a foul stench that travelled into my mouth and there it lingered.  
The flavour that I'd always imagined black ice on a highway would have,
as it lies in wait for it's next unsuspecting victim.
The driver blind to its presence until it's too late.
If only the driver could smell it before hand,  
slice a piece of the surrounding air and taste it,
maybe then they'd pull over and navigate an alternate route,
avoiding its painful possibilities.
What happened to your scent, love?
Where is that heady scent of sun tan oil, cotton candy and sweet sweat,  
that clung in your back draft?
Did I  change that euphoric scent to a foul odor casting
my cavalier attitudes and jaded opinions on you?
Did it slowly grow on you like toxic mold in a northern basement,
when each time you came to me, I rejected your advances?
Or was this simply the natural progression of our relationship?
A cocktail blended with unpaid bills, former lovers and children
We belted down like drunken sailors on shore leave.
We were taking belly shots off a dead man's stomach,
it was too rancid to swallow.
I remember a time in my days of womanizing,  
when I wouldn't have noticed these details.
I would have escorted you to the door, sending you away,
with a kiss on the cheek, a pat on the ass and "thanks for that babe."
One goes out the back door and another comes through the front,
but that's not in me anymore. I'm standing here,
quivering from the chill that you left in the air.
I want those womanizing days to return, only for this moment,
to make an easier transition from what was, to what is.
What is? I don't know. I fear the unknown...,
it's black ice on a highway.