Marriage

After so many years, it still
infuriates! — never to have learnt
the true story of her defeat;
to live with imperfect knowledge.
When, in spite of herself, she asks —
on rainy afternoons, for instance —
her husband makes himself scarce.
Later, he brings a tray of tea.
And when, in the normal course
of life, they have an argument,
and it's looking dangerous —
with furniture and body parts
at risk — suddenly he'll nod,
as if at something she can't see:
just ahead of him, in the air…
Maddening! — but what can she do?
Much later, he brings champagne.
Each night, in their chamber, he waits
to undo her braids. It's a ritual.
"So soothing … you have a flair for it,'
she says. He finds it soothing, too.
Now that there are no mirrors,
she simply shuts her eyes and dreams.
The only glass left in the palace
is in the spectacles she wears,
these autumn days, for reading.
Mostly, life is peaceful: the fact
that she doesn't know something
he does know is — they're both aware —
what makes their union possible.
And it can go on for a lifetime.
All he has to do is keep his nerve.