Whose ‘woman’, is my ‘wife’, and the, sin therein
Neither me, nor she, would ever know
A prejudice, blooms on…, beneath pride’s skin –
“My man was, never my, worthwhile beau!”
It ain’t economics, of supply, and demand
Nor dark equations, of a, woman’s delights
But a passion, beyond, a spent husband
And his, cherished rights, worn-out, love bites!
That lasting myth, of a ‘good marriage’
Can’t weather, at all, mirror’s sweet despair –
“Why be, spring’s splendor, lost to, fall’s outrage
Do dare to bare, sin’s scandalous flair”!
Every wife’s, a half-whore, may I dare, say so
At the altar, of her, virtuous shame
Mona Lisa, was not, for Leonardo
An unwed wife, without surname!
Man chases on…, impotent dreams
Woman smolders on…, in the, throes of need
Why love, be a pain, that lust redeems
Sin’s slave indeed, A Cuckold’s Creed!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra
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