Too many
days we have spent
muted by our
own shouting.
The colour
rises to the cheeks
and the fire
in the eyes
desires
nothing more
than
that quiet silence that we deny
ourselves
in these disparate moments:
The
gulf between the world which we
Desired,
And
the world which we have designed.
I was thinking about fights between spouses. Some spouses fight all the time, some a bit more rarely, but I was thinking about those times when I fight with my spouse and it seems like the entire world is crashing down, even though I know in my heart we'll have made peace by the next day, and by the following week we'll have forgotten what the hell it was we were even fighting about.
But in that moment, it seems as though everything we worked for, or dreamed of what a marriage should be, suddenly belongs to somebody's else's life, not our own.
I tried to capture that feeling. Hope I got close to it, at least. I rather like the sonic alliteration that arose in the last few lines as well.
MR
2016-0112
No comments:
Post a Comment