Marriage in Squares

What kind of marriage do you write about?
The one with the windswept hair on a blanket on the beach?
Or the one in coordinated color schemes on the front lawn?
Or maybe it’s an entirely different kind.
Maybe it’s the one broken into pieces?
Or the one being gladly left behind?
Which one makes the best story?
It’s certainly not mine.
The one where days get filled quickly
with lists and bills and bedtime routines.
Where tasks take over time
and misunderstandings monopolize the margins.
The one that’s clinging on,
not because it’s falling away,
but because it’s being knocked around by the monotony of the day.
That kind of marriage
doesn’t fit into a story
or a square.

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