‘Till death do us part

But the death of what?
What’s dead?

What’s the thing
On the butcher’s block,
Or in the
Pyre pit,

Or drowned in the ocean,
Waterlogged and bloated


Murdered and tied to
A cinder block
At the bottom of
A river

If it’s neither of us
Taking it’s place
In the grave

“As long as we both
Shall live”

Yet what are we?


Who’s to say
When divorce rates
Are climbing
Where a fault
In our promise is

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