This appears in a pre-2010 issue
of Down in the Dirt magazine.
Saddle-stitched issues are no longer
printed, but you can requesting it
“re-released” through amazon sale
as a 6" x 9" ISBN# book! Email us for re-release to order.
Sorry my darling, nothing personal,
Sorry my darling, this must be done.
I need children, to carry my name.
Sudden pain shot through her heart,
Half a woman that’s what she was,
A woman barren – a desert at best
She sated his lust, but he wanted more.
“No,” he continued, “Not a divorce.
I love you, my first wife you’ll remain,
Silent in a corner like a beautiful vase
Forever mine, never to be free,
And like a mute, suspended in time,
She bent her head and managed a nod.
He had the right to four wives,
The ball in her throat began to expand,
Until it burst like a million shards,
Each shard like a razor head
Piercing her spirit, what was that?
Blood, the blood of her dying hope
Slowly, mustering all the strength,
She rose to feet with a tight smile,
“I wish you luck,” she managed to say,
Before her tears swept her away.
