You. Me. Her.
You. Me. Her.
In couple’s
therapy,
we pretend to talk
of how you/me
relate–
As if we were
a couple–
As if she were unrelated
to this relationship.
She, who is so hip,
me, who is simply
hippy, hippier
(not to be confused with hippie, hippie-ier–
anything connected to
free spirits or
free love,
which right now means
you/her–)
At night, when we pretend to be silent,
she slips between us, pushing away
those simply-spread hips of mine,
those your-child-bearing hips,
something important rips–
**********************************************
A poem of sorts to link up to Mama Zen’s “Words Count” prompt on With Real Toads to write about something inspired by the rule of three, in 90 words or less. NOTE–not autobiographical or related to my current status in any way!
Explore posts in the same categories: poetryTags: broken heart poem, couples' therapy poem, manicddaily, Not managing a trois poem, Not menaging a trois poem, She Me You
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ManicDDaily 
June 19, 2014 at 12:03 am
I think ‘Her’ is a trouble maker. Just as the ‘Him’ in a relationship I once was in. What you gonna do?
..
June 19, 2014 at 12:11 am
for not being autobiographical you sure know how to write betrayal, k ~
June 19, 2014 at 5:02 am
Ha. I/m pretty sure we all know that. k.
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June 19, 2014 at 6:36 am
I perceive the first task of a poet is to speak for the contemporary audience about social issues that affect so many, which is why I never read poetry as autobiographical. This piece hits the subject of infidelity exactly where it hurts the most. The voice is compelling and authentic.
June 19, 2014 at 6:45 am
Thanks, Kerry. I just looked back at it in the context of your comment and felt that I had verb tense wrong of “mean” in second to last stanza– I think it connects to anything and not free spirits– ha! It is amazing how the English language trips one up.
Aside from that diversionary note, I appreciate as always your kind and thoughtful comment. I find the automatic identification of poetry– particular blog poetry– with particular circumstance to be so constricting. Everyone’s work is colored by his or her life– but it isn’t a mirror of life and it can feel difficult to expand if one feels it is viewed that way. Anyway– thanks. Loved your raptors! K.
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June 19, 2014 at 7:54 am
Ah, those hips are so effective… and “something important rips”
June 19, 2014 at 7:55 am
ugh. not a good place to be in….between two others when you were one of the two just the other day…and how long have you lived in that illusion…betrayal sucks
June 19, 2014 at 9:26 am
Reading this as a woman of certain age, this is brutal. Well done.
June 19, 2014 at 10:02 am
Karin, this poem overwhelms .. an oft-repeated scenario I suspect .. she/her/you/me.
June 19, 2014 at 11:32 am
Ow! Word play of Hip/hips does so much work in this poem, like someone trying to be clever rather than broken, by
but the RIP happens just the same. How could it not? Brilliant poem.
June 19, 2014 at 11:38 am
“Something important rips” says it all – that kind of tear cant really be fully mended. I also loved the “your-child-bearing hips.” Good reminder to the doofus in the poem.
June 19, 2014 at 12:05 pm
Ha. Thanks, Sherry. k.
On Thu, Jun 19, 2014 at 12:38 PM, ManicDDaily wrote:
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June 19, 2014 at 2:19 pm
There are so many kinds of betrayals in life–this is one of the ones that hurts the worst. I applaud you for writing outside your own box–it’s always assumed, so *much* is assumed– in blog poetry that every word is someone’s personal experience. People often try to make poems be about a certain thing or person, too–even when one is being general and talking about the way things just are (or can be.) Lots of impact and the hip-ness is very central, well-used.
June 19, 2014 at 2:41 pm
I probably have protested too much. Of course, I have some experience of such things! So, the poem is not truly out of my box, as you say so articulately. But it is not directly effective of me or current experience. I was worried about getting all these types of condolence comments!
It is very limiting! Thanks. k.
On Thu, Jun 19, 2014 at 3:19 PM, ManicDDaily wrote:
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June 19, 2014 at 3:44 pm
It’s a very honest poem, even if it’s not based on a real-life situation. Beautiful. Thanks.
Greetings from London.
June 19, 2014 at 9:16 pm
Such disappointment… sad.
June 19, 2014 at 10:06 pm
…those child bearing hips – So much is often given and thrown away when someone else slips between – this is powerful. I like it when poetry reaches beyond a person and explores things outside of their immediate circle. This speaks for many women, I’m sure.
June 19, 2014 at 11:44 pm
I love the reference to color and not reflection. I think many of us are always trying to read between the lines. I too like the beyond and how you achieved the tangle of betrayal and its existence on many levels.
June 20, 2014 at 4:36 am
You dove deeply into the wound(ing) here, exactly perhaps where it rips — I got the second birth of a child, into puberty perhaps, when she tears down mother to stand on her own. Make me recall the awful battle royales fought between my first wife and her daughter while our marriage was falling apart. Ye-owch. Loved in a loathly way the breech described as two motherly hips sundered.
June 20, 2014 at 5:51 pm
oh i’m glad it is not autobiographical – such a situation is beyond painful