Naive Infidelities of a Wife


riffling through yellowed diaries
mottled by drooling hourglass,
she indulges in sepia daydreams~
frayed at the edges
like old, tattered denims,
of cocky juvenile crushes–
now perhaps potbellied
and unshaven with eyes bleary
with habitual beer binges.

watching a droning television
parade plastic faced smiles
and suave chiseled persona,
she dreams of passionate trysts
under moonlight vermouth
in stolen, clandestine hours
with a star of tinsel world,
reliving those innocent fantasies
of naive adolescence.

she talks to her father
on phone and a wistful smile plays
on her pale lips, he is her hero
an epitome of ideal man
one none could ever compare to
and she wishes reality
reflected realms of her fancy.

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