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Sometimes when you're
married
You drift away within.
Outside you stroll together;
Inside you live in sin.
A rich imagination
Provides your ecstasy,
A cordless, mobile heaven
Where everything is free.
The garden that you tend
Is not the one you roam;
The part of you that sings
Is not the one at home.
A strange and burning life:
What's real is not what's true.
And no one knows the passion
That you believe is you.
And so you are distracted,
Two people in a jar,
Bound by love and fate,
Yet never what you are
Until by chance life rips
A hole right through your wall,
And nothing you've imagined
Looks like you at all. Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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