My plan for marriage
was courage
the way a plane
lands by sinking
then with a rush of strength
flexes to kiss the tarmac
as an equal
a drama soon forgotten
as we wait to see
whose luggage is whose
looping round the lucky horseshoe
magnet pull of what will emerge
and what must be swallowed again
whole
but when I’m nearly asleep
and my hand starts
to fall from his shoulder
and I wake sick once more
with knowing I am still
not the person I want to be
not someone who holds on
instinctively like a baby
or an animal
or a baby animal
not someone who falls asleep
and lets go
and it means
nothing
is it not a kind of courage
to lift the curse, my hand
and place it on the sheet
between us?
Merri Andrew writes poetry and short fiction, some of which is published in Strange Horizons, Five On The Fifth, Cordite and Baby Teeth. She lives on Ngunnawal and Ngambri Country in Canberra, a city hiding in the sub-alpine bushland of Australia. Merri can be found on Twitter @MerriAndrewHere