El Mar
–Tracy K. SmithThere was a sea in my marriage.
And air. I sat in the middleIn a tiny house afloat
On night-colored waves.The current rolled in
From I don’t know where.We’d bob atop, drift
Gently out.I liked best
When there was nothingThat I could
Or could not see.But I know
There was more.A map drawn on a mirror.
Globe cinched in at the poles.Marriage is a rare game,
Its only verbs: amAnd are. I aged.
Sometime agoWe sailed past bottles,
The strangest signs inside:A toy rig. A halo of tears.
Rags like trapped doves.Why didn’t we stop?
Didn’t sirens sing our namesIn voices that begged with promise
And pity?
Photo by Matt Hardy on Unsplash