M M Porter

Failing Marriage

There’s a scotch glass,
water bottle,
another milk carton:
where’s all this 

ruin pouring
from? The river
bed’s retiring
beach-glass sand-downs
& anything
broken can be soft.
When he walks,
he walks
so sharp. 

It’s a masquerade,
the way cuts come
warm. Her hand
opens like a mouth,
red on every
apartment wall. Still,
it’s their voice
in this sleep.
She’s untying 

this world
in bassinet terms:
can’t buy one
large enough. ’Course 

the bird sings
like wind
over reeds, & he
plays telephone
in the mimic. 

Him, watching
rabbits
while she keeps sipping
from the bathroom sink.

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M M Porter is attending Ohio University to pursue her PhD in English with an emphasis in Poetry. She is a graduate of the MFA poetry program at the University of North Carolina, Greensboro. Originally from Michigan, she continues to pursue the arts and hopes to one day teach creative writing with others who share her passions.