It's hard to get hard
as your breath catches thick
in the lining of your throat
when you're weak at the knees
only for having fallen
for yet another pack of
brightly coloured chloresterol.
Your wife says nothing these days.
Broken promises and lies
lie deep in the blue marbled
sheet that clouds her hazelnut eyes
as she hides in her chair
hung, drawn and quartered
on some pill or other - smarties.
You visit her from time to time
but you'd rather see her through a screen.
It's hard to get hard.
as perspiration pushes out of pores
maybe she's blonde today?
you always had a thing for blondes, didn't you?
Sweat drips.
Perhaps she's got caramel skin and
a sweet, aching crush on her step-brother?
Ham-handedly, you move without care
she could be anyone.
It's hard to get hard
when you can't see your worth
over the swell of your stomach
until you catch your reflection
a moment squeezed tight
in the limp, black second of a video
it's hard to get hard.
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