Written for:  Go Dog Go Café – Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge
Write something that ends with the phrase, “she tasted like memory.”

Is that her? Oh no,
heartache, heartache
for more years
than I would like
to recall. She
had it all, an idol
in my eyes. I never
was able to extricate
myself from her. I am
sure she is married.
I am not. No woman
could ever compete.
Now I see her
on the street,
and believe my eyes
have conjured her up.
We come face to face.
Had to stop, do all
the usuals ‘you
haven’t changed
a bit’, but we knew
ourselves for liars.
As we parted, I
chastely kissed
her cheek. Her skin
tasted like a memory.

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