Poem #48

Epithalamium:

Marriage of Pyramus And Thisbe…

“In the wall that parted the two houses
there was a crack,
caused by some fault in the structure…
What will not love discover!”

from Bulfinch’s Mythology, by Thomas Bulfinch

for Chase and Emily

How many materials keep apart, the blessed beloved?
When we wing above the pond,
oh phone, free me from the wealth to debt of
hours holding us in our separate space.
Love of a detective drawn deep into cursive case
by case–lost person on a milk carton of which we grew fond,
gone, and glaring on the haunts which he or she has grace,
in fighting for simple sorts of words weary with missing you.
We weaken, waning from a stellar stricken fathom, blue,
strengthening the strong bond, believing any way to keep us two,
when we only have oneself to embrace.
These two young fawns seemingly frolicing in passion
are older than the twenty-something smiles we face.
Instead of an ill absolutist as Mary, Queen of Scots,
conspiring in the cold clutches of moonlight to murder a queen,
instead of domineering, doling out duties for Cleaver’s mom on a screen,
instead of the mean man-made machine,
a pure passion, which never rots.
May your days be bright,
and cling close to this special something,
good and right.

May 22, 2015

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