Marital Dance

We converse in actions
words inaccessible –
have not been schooled
in dialogues for two.

His clutter spreads
pronounce’s a kingly
presence, commands
attention, oppresses

I clean with insistence
shuffle papers, wipe up
crumbs, assert my right
to co-exist, belittle him.

Once we studied dance;
he learning to lead, I
to follow signals – the art
is lost on us now, our steps

more interference, blocking
an inconvenience, not a
strategy; we are rhythmless
tolerating avoidances

How did language fail us
experts now at skirting
delicate issues, retreating
into solo performances

Pray time will serve,
absolve the problem, but
distance grows in silent cracks
we only converse in actions.

(Marital Dance first appeared here in August, 2017.
I submit it here, edited, for Eugi’s Weekly prompt: dance.
Image my own.)


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

34 thoughts on “Marital Dance”

  1. I need a thesaurus to really tell you how well you delivered on this poem! Something about your poems always really catch my writerly heart. Your words are great, but you just know how to set a mood, and there’s always a simmering humor about it too, but maybe it’s just my reading of it. Great work!

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  2. What an image you create with “distance grows in silent cracks”. This poem reminds me of my parents’ marriage when I was growing up. But amazingly, once I moved out (I was the youngest) that crack seemed to fill in and they became best friends again. Guess it was a kind of kintsugi.

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    1. How wonderful that they could reconnect. All relationships are a dance, and sometimes we just get stuck on certain rhythms till someone or something incites change. Thanks LuAnne.

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