The Trophy Wife

By Boinkaz

dented by snubs, tarnished by sidelong glances

the trophy wife cradles holy water

inside her fault lines and ruptured silver,

then pours a smile to burnish bright my morn.

she spins a hurricane of welcomes

runs fingers through a garden of handclasps

even gracious to my sarcastic Ex,

red with the imprint of life’s open palm.

trophy wife I hoist you above my head

i’ve plucked you like a garland from a champ

experience makes other women wise

yet you suffer my gloating with aplomb.

I lean on a crutch of my younger self

ponder my twilight set upon your shelf.

Copyright 2015 by Boinkaz


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