milf deconstructed (a poem)

Marriage: Years 1-5

Each day, cotton candy fluffy marshmallow clouds

floating between comments of “I love you” and “You’re beautiful honey”

hubby home from work, healthy dinner served,

glass of $50 wine that is difficult to pronounce so it must be fucking great

Tongue down throat, barely make it to the bed, face in the pillow

deep, penetrating cock inside you like he “fucking means it” love making, so in love his sweat tastes like cupids own saliva

true, fucking, love

smile like a clown as you walk outside to get the mail,

waving stupidly at the neighbors with your “the world is mine” look

because your life is better, your BMW is newer, your skin is tighter

you still stay up past 11 each night

and don’t yet know about Lifetime movies

Years: 6-10

The cotton candy begins to stick to your fingers now,

damp from the low hanging clouds circling above

3 kids now and damn you are tired

Hubby still hasn’t responded to your “hope you had a good lunch” text

such a foolish ruse

when you really wanted to text “is she prettier than me, does she taste better than me?”

he sees directly through your less tanned, heavier hanging skin bull shit

it pisses you off, but you stay silent

Dinner, hit start on the microwave and watch the lasagna spin around like a good American,

but don’t get too close, the radiation may fuck with the botulism in your lips

“He used to kiss me all the time,” that voice whispers in your head as you stare at the cheese bubbling over the paper towel you placed on top

But then, a text!!!! Some excitement, a little clit tingle, just like old times

“Don’t forget to walk the dog, don’t want him pissing the rug again,” he typed

Crushed again

Hubby home, eats dinner on the couch watching Fox News and bitching about Mexicans, niggers and why Obama sucks giant donkey dicks

he takes his laptop in the bathroom for another 40 minute shit as you clean up behind him, you dive in to that box of Franzia wine the neighbor brought over for your birthday

you taste the plastic and cardboard grapes, but are indifferent

settle into the couch and watch “Cyber Seduction; His Secret Life”

cry yourself to sleep again

Years: 10-???

Kids don’t listen, hubby has more “meetings” than ever

random text from a 20-something hussy saying that your hubby’s cock tastes old and he’s a fucker, says he won’t leave your wrinkled ass like he keeps promising,

something about the kids or some other lame cheating excuse used a million times before by all the other pussy chasers

you hit “delete”, pretend the text was a mistake as you park your minivan and go in for you ass-bleaching appointment, no tears

next day, different doctor for mysterious soft tissue back injury to get that oxy prescription

at least the pills make the boxed wine taste better

two months since you’ve seen hubby’s dick,

Jesus the lawn guy is beginning to look like Erik Estrada now,

just like an old porno, ask him if he’s thirsty, invite him inside

bad carpet, bad music, face back in the pillow

it doesn’t count if you don’t kiss with tongue,

his sweaty hand on the back of your neck

“So this is what is used to be like,” that voice whispers “So this is what it used to be like.”

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