The Marriage

By Anushka Joshi

Scott and Zelda once spent an hour

In the revolving door of a hotel-

Just another jazz age prank.

Like jumping into the fountain at Union Square.

Later the accusations

The sanatoriums

The burning to death 

And the death by drowning 

In endless glasses

That reflected too well. 

For now the mouth of misery 

Was still muzzled. 

Can you imagine them

Turning and turning

Echoing the earth in its orbit

Unable to learn but always returning

To where they had been a second ago,

As if retracing their own steps,

Two detectives investigating their own footprints

As if in rehearsal for regret. 

 

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