~
she's thunderstorms.
she's asphodel meadows.
I fall outside of her
into the suburbs of askew,
where she hides behind
happy occident, where she
lives with the afterlife of a man,
but is in love with a scientist.
a jaded thing, she likes
to drop anvils on her
husband's head and blame
her fragile scaffolding,
she wears the wreckage
on her face, it's far easier
than admit her own fallacies.
before the children came along
she was able to pour some
of her own frustrations
into these knotty tussles.
now the midwives have left.
now misadventures in her
own backyard commence.
no hiding place down
the front of her,
the remaining secrets
come from underneath.
but if you trust her
and go along, she knows exactly
where to lay her hands.
~
