Manic

He left her for a bony witch with halitosis. She thinks of humiliating him recalling that final ******, hears again his sob of pleasure. Then his hurried dressing, his coldness. She wants to humiliate him, to stomp upon his bull soul. One cigarette after another; she draws the smoke into her lungs, into her belly, feels the fumes turning to vengeful wraiths. Imagines pleasuring him once more, using him up. One last warm splash, then leaving abruptly, yet a look back to relish his wide-eyed undoing - junking him from her body forever.