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Marriage
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My LiFe In WoRdS.... He gropes around for his ring
The clock starring at his face
She’s laying on his arm
Some woman he doesn’t know,
In some place he shouldn’t be.
She checks the clock one more time
The hands flicking her off
As they move slowly,
He didn’t call again
She’s afraid for her sanity.
He quietly puts his clothes on
One by one he finds them all,
Underwear sticking out from the love seat,
Socks close to the Champaign,
This is unnerving him.
She sets her ring down on the nightstand
With the utmost grace
As if it were a tiny rose with delicate petals
And standing in her face is a picture
Drifting and blurry in her sleepy state,
She recognizes the white dress,
But doesn’t seem to know the man anymore.
