https://wp.me/p4t2PZ-5Tq for the prompt.
My marriage is
the Crumbs of cake that I licked before washing my plate,
now it is stuck, under the sides of my tongue,
in the back of my throat,
like an esophageal itch that would last a lifetime.
or maybe it is like the cicatrix on the old oak tree at the end of this street,
Original to the owners of this land,
mine and mine alone, my marriage and my man.
Or probably a Proprioception, like
breathing, or walking towards home on a luminous night,
with pretend emotions and a masking smile.
My marriage is an intricate mix.