POETRY

The Last Act

The Conclusion of ‘Laments of an Affair’

A well rehearsed play — you set the stage Me in the foreground, her in the center You’ve saved the best lies for me the pretense creates a satire a parody of four lives You and I satisfied at their expense my lover and your wife and we play out our roles like trained actors But you’ve forgotten the twist, the turn that separates our satire from tragedy — we are all martyrs needlessly sacrificed The irony! This is for the best, I say out of cue Best for whom? You say Us, I reply on cue, take my bow and graciously exit stage left — I return to the dressing room, peel away layers of recently rediscovered womanhood conceal open wounds with gauze and wrap myself in a hermit’s cloak — I escape the fire, down the back-rung stairs down the musty alleyway, into darkness Don’t I hear the echo of your starving sons pealing through abandoned streets?

©1998 Lori Carlson. All rights reserved.

Poet’s Note: This poem is the conclusion of the prose poetry series, Laments of an Affair. You can read the series here:

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Lori Carlson writes poetry, fiction, personal essays, creative non-fiction, and articles. She focuses on Spirituality, Life Lessons, Self-Awareness, Relationships, Mental Health, and LGBTQ+. She is the Owner/Editor of Promptly Written and Not For Bedtime Stories. You can find her older stories on her creative writing blog, Ravyne’s Nest and random ramblings on her personal blog, A Delicious Torment.