Disarray Of The Desperate

By Dr. Pratik Pravin Bhat

I made him sit down

Near the teapoy,

Served him some chai and biscuits.

Today is the day

I would tell him all that I did.

He had given me a diamond ring,

A proposal far beyond this realm.

He deserved to know.

Finally, a boy, a man

Who wanted me to be his wifey.

He sipped the chai,

The sound from his tongue

Made the same sound

As when down on me, a hum.

So here it goes,

I did what I did.

I went out with your best friend,

Then with my office folks.

Many tried to woo me,

Two or three, I allowed them to take me

Into their embrace.

I wanted fun and adventure,

Settling down was not for me.

I have been polygamous,

I might even cheat on you after we marry.

My libido is on overdrive,

Sex is a drug, love a hobby.

So, will you disown me?

Will you show remorse?

Because I am what I am,

I have been with you for years.

But the calm before the storm

Seemed to get aggravated

As I saw his face

Turn angry.

It was the first time I was revealing

How I felt things were.

I didn’t know what else to do.

Maybe society wouldn’t accept me,

But I am what I am.

There was a sudden thud and a crack,

The tea glass had shattered into shards.

He looked at me like a wrestler about to lose,

Going to try his winning shot.

He stood and came close to me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, scared.

He drew his hand up, I said “Fuck!”

I closed my eyes,

Ready for a slap,

But I felt a kiss on my cheek,

The softest touch.

He then clasped my hand with his,

A tear drop in his eye, I looked.

He slowly removed the diamond ring,

The unimaginable happened then.

He swallowed it whole.

“You need medical attention! Let’s go,” I said.

“I will handle myself, you go sell yourself,”

He exited like a bull

Who had seen red.

I had handled many men before,

It didn’t matter.

I lost my marriage,

But not my wine cellar.

I started making a Martini with

The finest gin,

I played Netflix,

Started to chill.

He would come back,

There is no one that could leave me.

My beauty is such,

Even I would make love to me

If I could.

Into the couch,

I lay,

Higher than

The sun.

By Dr. Pratik Pravin Bhat