allrighty, you're hitched,
lassoed, shackled, and
now, and i'm talking
that's from this point on.
the word "yourself" will be
erased because there'll be
no need for a word never used.

now, that's a stage but
they're not numbered,
they just occur and
not together; that's
a substage of the
much larger stage
and if you've not yet
tasted the elixir of
companionship, then
you perhaps are smelling
a different attar, but
from the same bud.

try to be one. impossibile.
all the textbooks say be One,
meld, blend, become one
and the Nirvana of Marriage
will be at your leash and
lead, but like the
commercial that is an illusion
it stops after thirty-seconds
and you're back to the heavy
part of your existence, soon
seeking to be hidden
from the light of
an open admission of need.

now, that's after the first day,
and that's the honeymoon,
which lasting a day
would put it in the Guiness
record books for being the
first marriage in which
two people expressed
every unfulfilled need
for a day--even.

viewing, all, from our
blue, virtual sofa rife
with understandings of life
but still ignorant
of what tomorrow
will bring, we
move with stealth,
hiding our self-imprisioning
short-comings;

we seem shocked
and surprised when

we see


the next subtext
marching in on
eider-downed feet
of wisp and ever so slowly
startling us with
a gramatical revision
of the word, "yourself"
and the change is to
"ours."
that's just what this girl thinks.

05/11/2005

Posted on 05/11/2005
Copyright © 2025 Charlie Morgan