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Rated: E · Prose · Contest Entry · #2215880
Writer's Cramp - Prose 30 Lines
Upon quarantine, I looked at Dean
my husband who viewed himself
as lean and mean.

Tanning booths, lotions, potions,
preening like a sex machine,
thinking he's every woman's dream.

I thought -Oh! Lord, how can this be?
This virus got me trapped with Dean.

I sneak my chocolate and frito pie
console myself and wonder why?

Upon the couch, he stared at me
like a bull who lost his herd.
no roaming pasture to charge upon
just one old cow who eats bon-bons.

At first at odds we fought and sputtered,
time detesting one another
without his gym and workplace pride
confused and dazed he couldn't hide.

But, then a lightbulb lit his mind
self-disclosure - burst on sight,
exploding like a cannon shot
he faced his fears, a sordid lot.

We sat together, shared our tears
going over all the years
memories of what we gained and lost,
then united whatever the cost.

Quarantine what fear it brings
rightly so a dreadful thing
but for us we came together
isolation - marriage better.

30 Lines

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