Winged phallus by Helen Jones

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“I no longer care for you,” he said.
“It is done. It is over, for I have another.
Another, somehow, better lover, to have and to hold.”
And as he spoke, she smiled.
Her old life unspooling, uncoiling, unravelling, she unflinchingly replied:
“I don’t give a flying fuck. For I have this.
Another, other, somehow, better lover, to have and to hold.”

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