The Failed Mission
In his memory,she was not very bright.
Attractive enough,
compliant enough,
the right kind of quiet
for an officer’s wife.
She stood where he placed her,
smiled when it was useful,
learned what happened
when she did not obey.
He will tell you he made her.
Molded her into the form
she needed to be.
He was a military officer;
she, a uniform accessory.
In his memory she remains
the woman he molded,
still using the lessons
he thinks he taught her.
What his memory does not hold
is her mind -
working quietly behind the love he dismissed,
reading the room,
reading him,
cataloguing every exit,
every infidelity,
every bruise,
building the courage
he didn’t think possible.
She came to know
exactly who he was,
and she was never,
not once,
who he thought
she was.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
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Written on 2026-06-04 at 20:18
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