Let Them Eat Chocolate Cake
She’s panting and sweaty and the feeling (feeling) is slipping away. Her head lolls forward and she stares down – down into the ice blue eyes of the man whose hands still grip her hips.
Smirking at her – as if he’s done something important.
Nothing is important, not anymore.
She thinks about sex – not the sex she’s just had, but the important sex she had once, a long time ago.
His hair was soft and chocolate brown. So were his eyes.
She loved him. She still loves him.
She reaches into her heart to touch the emotion and it isn’t there.