Three Poems by Miki Byrne

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