congenial demands

congenial demands
by diy danna
Picking up the pieces of rubble from a broken
seashell while on holiday with the husband
who demands to know what you are thinking-
about the life you once led as a missionary
assuming the position as a humble servant
and kneeling before the alter of self-righteousness
and political machinations – character assassinations
that end when you snuff out that demanding voice
of conscience. The reason tells you it is not love
but a hormonal imbalance that tricks four pounds-
not kilograms – of wrinkled gray matter
that is smoothed and smothered by affection.
His demands are simple – tell him what you are thinking.
But your arresting thoughts are held behind bulbous eyes
that scan the shoreline plotting the next escape from the
escarpment – with a leap into the ocean – A New Awakening!
You swim until you grow weary and submit
to the congenial demands of the wrinkled gray liquid matter –
once an ocean of wrong choices and regret,
now a euphoric honeymoon sea of possibility.

0 thoughts on “congenial demands

  1. This reads like a slam. I love it! Wish I could hear it live from you. Love this imagery: “the life you once led as a missionary/ assuming the position”.

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