Husband, This Is Not a Love Poem


You are the reflection of the impossible,
Pulverized dreams and bodies, and
Wholly trapped freedoms.
Validated by black and white,
Always.

Held steadfast to your course of inaction,
Bound by misappropriated duty,
Appropriate "Miss" into "Mrs."
Bound by blind, animalistic,
Albeit static purpose
That's been pressed upon you
By generations of rigid, self righetous,
And thoughtlessly angry men.
Unwilling to oblige that which may
Force you to give of yourself.
Viewed as disinterested, but listening
Intently. Sleuthing.
Always.

Full of wanting, so much wanting
And ever so complicated expectation
And, of course, expectations.
Excused by your unending sacrifices,
Stating every excuse in the books.

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