'Wedlocked'
By christy
We have been displaced by the inertia of marriage, walking on unsalted ice as if immune to gravity. Fleshwarm union, uninteresting as a virgin's diary, sits staring blankly with it's tongue sliced out. Exhausted, you escape with your mistresses; the silver fish who suck your hook, the mindless deer, the naked wind in the wood while my life is chained to steeping tea and warming loaves, kissing cheeks and wiping asses, overpeppering your restricted diet. It is 409 coupons, overdraft protection, stinking laundry mountains. It is a passionless occupation and grudgefucking through sleepless midnights minus the tears, after you plumb sewers, hour after overtime hour, of hookers, crackheads, and doctors whose stench and flushed personals feed our family. You hate the wild rotation of your world, spinning round my stillness, my salty unblinking moon, my sameness constant as the ocean. We are echoes. We are tired. We are rust covered and cold. We are carrying love, running toward each other with our eyes glued shut. Written January 16th, 2002 © on Jan 16 2002 02:38 AM PST 0 • 10
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"We have been displaced by the inertia of marriage,..."