poetry

A Banal Sort of Betrayal.

The mid century outdoor sconce
I helped your wife install last summer
illuminates;
your slightly receding hairline,
5 day old stubble,
sweat stains on a blouse,
the glint of a best friend
charm on my wristβ€”
your forehead slick with guilt
when my arms, encircling your neck,
remind you
that we never truly cared
about all the lines we’ve crossed.

Β© Nancy Botta, 2019

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16 thoughts on “A Banal Sort of Betrayal.

  1. This is juicy like the plotline of a favourite drama. As a reader, I ask myself if my loyalties lie with the betrayed wife and friend? Or am I secretly enthralled and excited by the illicit thrill of the protagonists and their secret affair? So much expressed through a handful of well-chosen words;
    I’m in awe of this poem. πŸŒ·πŸ’

    Liked by 1 person

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