Lonesome Twosome

Marriage is a lonely place,

I dreamt

we moved through different spaces,

which were wide and vast.

We moved through dark places,

Empty attics of abandon,

halted histories,

and a suspended past.

 

We moved towards an unknown future,

going down ascending slopes

and moving up descents,

across diagonal lines,

around triangular edges

in square rooms without stairs

only lines and walls and

open ceilings and dark nights.

 

Ours are the only faces.

Others are just passing by.

They are few, come in twos,

and share the same journey.

 

I try to ascend alone, but turn around

and go back down to where

he is

sitting on a bench

way on the other end of this vast, hall-like room

with levels, which remind me of

a Halo map from that video game,

which we so fondly used to play.

 

Why do I return to him? I’m not sure.

We seem to be in this together.

His momentary reluctance 

doesn’t seem to bother me

as I approach.

 

“Don’t bother with finding your soul mate,

It will only distract you

from what you came here to do.”

The visionary said to the seeker

with a matter-of-factness that

made her statement feel cold.

Love, romance, isn’t that

what everyone is looking for?

Don’t we spend

countless hours, days and years

in youth and age

driven by hormones and je-ne-sais-quois,

driven by a who-knows-what 

mystery-phenomenon

searching for the one?

Until we find this person

and join in fates for better or worse.

 

Yes, it was a lonely place.

Every couple I encountered,

and there were very few,

was, too, 

very much alone.

Very much engrossed in themselves,

were they,

engrossed in each other,

in a way

that made them seem

Lost

in a landscape 

of vast, enormous spaces.