Today the morning rang me up at 6.15 am
and told me what I had done wrong
the day before
and what I must not do today.
Half an hour later it rang again
waking me again
with a story about faith
and the world as it's turned out to be
and the salt that is rubbed into wounds.
You rose from our bed
to find a cockroach on your leg
its touch feathery as a moth's.
This could be the day I marry
you.
This could be the day we
strew
flowers around the house
(a spider escaping onto my hand)
and stack the fridge
with champagne
because of the way
the world has turned out to be.
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