Sarah Giragosian: Marriage as Hide and Seek

I am the abandoned house. 

You: the seeker. Was I ever 

more than a lurch in the stair, 

 

a stove needing elbow grease, 

gall in the splintered bed frame? 

Call off the realtors, the house flippers 

and vandals. The loosestrife chokes 

the backyard, and through the cracks, an undertow 

 

of dragonflies come and go. Some ricochet 

against the walls, peter out and leave behind 

concentrations of iridescent wings in the sills. 

I am and am not here, hiding, 

which is to say I’m shadow- 

 

boxing loneliness again. 

  

I am the abandoned house. 

You: the seeker in the window 

peeking in, daring me to declare 

 

myself found. Count to one hundred again, 

this time louder. If you could be 

the shaft of light, the wedge in the door, 

I could grow bold, 

and when it’s your turn to hide, 

 

bear in mind this vow: 

you will always be within ear- 

shot of love, it’s patient count, 

whenever I’m around.