The Effects of Marriage

327 days move quickly like water in a storm drain.
There are moments when it all rushes up,
when the fabric frays or tears.
Each night I sew up all the loose strands
that come undone with the day.
I take the words of others and pack them
carefully in a box, ship it to Greenland.
“I love you” comes out like word vomit.
I thought we were strong. Like a rock.
Doubt creeps in my ear at night sometimes
and lays her eggs, like gentle thoughts.
I exterminate and dam up the walls.
I want to fold you into an origami duck
and place you somewhere deep in my cupboard.
A shoebox that only I know the combination for.
I’ll set it under my boots and bury it in scarves,
tuck you away from the world and keep you for myself.
Or maybe one day I will become a swan and
we can migrate away. Do swans migrate?
I say they do, I say I do and we shall fly
to the coast of Ireland just because we wish
for the salt of the sea to touch our cheeks.