Getting Married

Let’s get married, you said.
I sat up quickly and 
just in time,
stopped my mouth saying, 
After two days?
You’re going mad!
Why? Where’s the gain?
We’ve already said we’ll stay together,
You with me or me with you,
and care for each other,
and make love to each other.
We don’t need a piece of paper
saying Mr and Mrs.
Anyway, you don’t have a good record
when it comes to marriage.
Or so I’ve heard, I said.

I think I want an extra tie,
another binding, a public one.
So that your friends 
would ring you up, concerned,
and warn you not to go ahead.
And mine would try to find you
to do the same and worry
about my sanity.
But not for long.
We’ll do it quick, you said.

And then we can smile behind their backs
as they check our progress down the years,
amazed that we’re still together,
still like each other, still love.
And, after all, I have a much worse record 
of not being married.

So, lets get married, you said.

First published by Paper Plane Pilots, issue 4, April 2015


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