Nights of a marriage are like an Egypt in a woods.
Dark around its edges mirror at the heart.
War has gone quiet.
It moves, a reflection: no.
Cheap theatre smell, rooms
settle and hiss. What is he doing. Sleep,
its hours pleat together and close
like a fan, what does she know.
Waters move slightly or do they.
Paths glide to them, to who? Glide off.
out of the marriage, into the marriage.
vanishes too, murmuring, stain
is a puzzle you do not want
the answer to.