My sad nights

My nights turn sad

Every time she comes to the bed,

Does she make love to me?

Without being her who my soul loves.

Fulfil the duties

Of a loved wife?

Get into the duties

of being a housewife.

Only God knows

All my cravings;

What I need is not a penis,

But to give in my soul.

Fill in my sad hours,

Erase her tears,

Smile, happy

Pretend that we are to be applauded.

What do actresses know

About cheap performances?

It is me who plays

The role of beloved wife.

It is not for my children,

that I'm still between her sheets,

But for stability

And a society that stomps us.

Many of us during the nights

Escape from our beds,

We fly distances

And seek other souls.

The look of the absent-minded

Doesn't say much to so many,

But wives

Know what they are about.

I don't want more sad nights,

Or mourning between my blankets,

Shining the sun outside

And being light from the dawn!

Andrea Tutor Fernández Santa María, (pseudonym of María Caridad Torres Vila) is a Cuban-Spanish writer who lives in Spain.

Arts and expression + Poetry