Trophy
Wife.
When the
jagged edges of your life cut me to slivers
and the
depths of your pre-occupation drowned me
in their
chill. I feebly staunched the wounds.
Till all I
was lay splattered and you dipped your fingers
into what I
was. You daubed yourself in war-paint
from the
palette of my love. Drew the warriors mask
upon you.
Then left me torn and bleeding as you carried
my heart away.
A trophy on your belt. I bumped against
your thigh
as you strode like an invader through my life.
I meant no
more in captivity than I had in the chase.
When we Argued in Public.
That night, the air
shattered,
when you hurled
your words through it.
I bloodied my
feet trying to walk away.
With the shards
of your lies
stuck like thorns in my skin.
Other people put
their days in glasses
and settled into
the armchair hours.
Conversation
shoaled about us.
Yet I could not
speak because your comments
filled my mouth.
You thought that I
was adorned in embarrassment
and would not
take my clothes off in public.
Anger was my
evening meal that night
and I ate till I
was sated.
Let its
nourishment form a new skin
over the places you had touched.
Made it pad out my
feeble arms with muscle
and give strength to my trembling thighs.
I became a
colossus. Stepped over you.
and left you as
desert for the hungry crowd.
Dining Gaffe.
Conversation ebbs
and flows.
Equal emphasis
from each person.
Cornered around a
laden table.
Words are swapped. Vocal tennis.
Mixed doubles
cheered on by a good dinner.
Then one becomes
competitive.
Sees her happy with
another.
Breaks the unsaid
rule of table talk.
Hits a verbal volley,
painful in its speed.
His opposite is taken down.
Precariously
rocked by the unexpected swipe.
Hurt by the probe
of questions too deep for etiquette.
Dislikes the hard
thump of intrusion. She sits.
Held uncomfortably in place.
Unable to disrupt the social balance.
As she becomes the
butt her partner sits mystified.
A subtle shift has trembled through the room.
They rise to leave. Give cool thanks.
Yet burn with the building warmth of
anger.
Miki is the author of two poetry collections.
She has had work included in over 120 poetry magazines and anthologies. She has
won prizes for her poetry and has read on both Radio and TV and judged poetry
competitions. She has a BA (Hons.) in 3D Design and a PGCE. Her new collection
‘Flying Through Houses’ will be available from Indigo Dreams Press in 2013. Miki
is disabled and lives in Gloucestershire, England
No comments:
Post a Comment