Today's poem is by Seth Hagen

One of Us
       

One of us is drunk, and one of us is lying—
if love is a temple, it's got spiders and a curse.
Maybe we won't work it out, but we're trying.

Us still swims luminous in my mind,
an embryo in its egg, candled and obscure—
OK, one of us is drunk, and one of us is lying.

You said, "Hold that thought. I'm buying,'
pleated a twenty you plucked from your purse.
Were we working it out? Were we even trying?

You swung on the surface in the glass of wine.
"I remember our first bed. Now there are no more firsts."
Someone must be drunk. Someone must be lying.

You asked me if love was just crust, salt rime
on rock when the lies burned off from lust—
so maybe we won't work it out, but I'm trying.

Let us kneel to its Form in faith or in science:
the voice of a virgin, black holes, a fifth force.
What if one of us is drunk and one of us lying?
Maybe we won't work it out, but love is trying.

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Copyright © 2024 Seth Hagen All rights reserved
from Sugar House Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission