sanctity

"Marriage should
be between a man & 
a woman"
a booming voice 
from above said.

Marriage had been eating
a cheese sandwich 
in the park,
minding their own business
& feeding the crusts
to the squirrels.

so, a man & a woman
came & put
Marriage between them,
each held one hand
& Marriage wriggled.

Marriage is something blue,
borrowed, & new. 
they prefer crawling
to standing.
they prefer being alone,
sometimes reading a book
in a cafe & drinking coffee.

they have seven fingers
on each hand
& doves tend to follow
them wherever they walk.

i have a bad habit
of imagining weddings 
with lovers i've barely known.
it's not even that i actually
want to marry them, but
i want to picture what
it would look like,
i'll call it fantastical
scrapbooking. 

Marriage escapes often,
biting the hand of
the man or the woman
or tricking them to let go. 
this is easy because 
the man & the woman aren't
very bright.

when i was younger
i would capture Marriage
when i saw they had escaped.
i hated to see them so happy
& i feel terribly about it now.

i would scoop them up
from the kitchen floor
& scold them about 
midnight snacking, telling
Marriage that they were
going to get fat

& then i would say "there's
just a nature order to
things that has 
to be maintained."

when Marriage comes
now i apologize & we take
a walk to get ice cream.
Marriage likes Neapolitan 
& i like caramel swirl.
 
after that, we raid the cabinets
& i watch them eat Oreos.
They eat them funny,
peeling the cream out
& eating that part first.
They tell me stories
about people kissing,
the way lips taste
like chocolate & the way 
that some people never wanted
to be married.

last night they Marriage 
paused to say
that they think that's sweet,
that they wish more people
would get NOT married.

"Then what about you?"
i asked.

Marriage shrugged &
continued chewing. 

we strolled the block
late at night & Marriage
ate a few stop signs & 
sidewalk squares.

they told me i should
never get married &
that i should try 
eating more inanimate objects.

i agree & we split a 
stoplight, crumbly
like shortbread. 

before Marriage left
that night
i kissed their forehead
which left my mouth
with a blue taste.

when you kissed me
you felt it too. 

blue is a strange 
kind of desire.

i want to eat everything.
i steal engagement rings,
swallow each at the glass counter.

Marriage stocks
the fridge with wedding cake.
i eat it all each night
so that you don't notice.