Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.

Saturday, March 3, 2007

Marriage: One

I can walk, talk, eat cake,
balance our accounts,
sip tea you make for me
and laugh, laugh, laugh
all with a broken arm,
three fractured ribs
and gangrene in my fists.

Oh, I've seen you do the same.
I've heard your chest pain
down the line as you call
to say you'll be late.
I've heard your throat close
with cancer as you smile
through the buzz and snow.

You didn't snap my bones
and I haven't torn your muscles
with my teeth.
It was wasn't us, it wasn't them,
it wasn't anyone I can see
or you can see.
I'm sure of just one thing:

it happened before we were We.

Not that I should fix you,
you think.

You could not be more right
and wrong.

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