Master of her Memories

​She dips slowly past the elastic of her pants. Let’s her hand linger with a quick lick of the lips while she tries to remember the good taste and pleasure of him. Back and forth her thoughts race trying to pull back the memories. They lead her in circles and swell with rage. Anger consumes her. The memory is not real. He lied. She spins faster in circles trying to push him out. One last time — get him out! Must…Move…Out. 

Get. Him…


A howl of relief.

A deep breath.

And he’s gone.


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