A tussle of egos,
Where I repell
And he clutches,
Both in disgust,
Desparation and misery.
A tight knot of resistance
Which finally loses
And releases itself - numb
While he comes
Tired and sad and alone.
Yet, emptily clutching his
Mark of masculinity,
Of meaningless conquest.
A hurried turning back
Where I face the wall
And he, empty air.
We, united by a common blanket -
marital hate.
No comments:
Post a Comment