The phone call was over, he realized. Had been. For hours maybe. Who knows? He didn’t. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t matter. He didn’t *need* her. Didn’t need her. Didn’t need her.
He. Didn’t. Need. Her. Her. Her. *Her….*
~
Yet when he laid alone at night,
frigid sheets caressing his skin,
trembling hands clenched around himself,
thighs stained with liquid shame,
eyes burning with tears,
the name he cried out until he was hoarse…
Was hers.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ian1uo/her_very_short_storypoemangstpostbreak_upimplied