Transcending

A constant desire

For the conversation

To move beyond

The entirely banal

And into the

Emotional

Or spiritual

Or best

Into what is

Impossible to

Put into words

The measure of a marriage

I could tell you

How long they have been married

What each of them do

Who earns how much

And who they live with

And where

And that would tell you nothing

About the marriage

The marriage is measured

Not in such facts

But in moments,

In relationships

The relationship between

The number of times

The baby gets up at night

And the depth of redness

In the eyes the following morning 

(Yes it matters, Whose eye it is)

The number of yawns a partner takes

And the number of extra naps they get

The favorite returned with a number of

Unnecessary caresses

And the brightness of

The twinkle in the eyes 

In return

The number of coffee cups

Or teas or waters

That come in twos

Compared to the ones

That come in ones

And the hours spent

Stirring and stewing

The minutiae of life

That would bore

Anyone who is not them

To death 

Yes, these and more,

Are the measures of a marriage

And parenting

That are

Impossible to measure

By any means

(Inspired by, obviously,

Invisible cities)

Unhappy

In prisons

Of our own making