THOUGHTS ON MARRIAGE MEGHAN CHOU

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egg drop soup on the stove / clothes hung like albumen in clear water / the AC beats dust onto faded shirts / an overhead fan cycles last words / we’re living off echoes // smells like a postman’s shirt / envelope sealant and cardboard boxes everywhere / basement occupied, not open for sublet / when’s the big move? // stale eyes focused on empty plates / music blaring, oven vent on high / chicken pot pie and tandoori chicken for dinner / wash your own dishes // weathered lips overseas, or at sea / no hands to press away the past / just get a divorce, please // it’s unnatural / a prehistoric exhibit at a museum / fossilised love / gone extinct with no trace // a one-way street / she hails a taxi that makes it to the edge / engine stalls / left driverless // the lone passenger