...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bv7IcjmxjGo

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I think, in this modern age, 

To marry

Is to make peace with the possibility

Of complete, and utter catastrophe. 

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It was a sand bar

Upon which they'd said their vows -  

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Oaths, in the olden days

Brought bad luck when broken

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And he couldn't escape the feeling 

That he was somehow rolling

A set of ivory die 

Or crossing some invisible Rubicon. 

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Waves lapped over smoothened sand, 

Textured 

Like the silken sheets

Of a distant honeymoon-suite

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While a setting sun 

Broke behind the jagged horizon

And its flash of brightened fingers -

Of pastel, and of acyclic -

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Commemorated

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The endlessly lapping currents

Of an endlessly rolling pacific. 

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The ocean, they were set

To get married

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at the edge of the pacific ocean.  

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She held my hand as we faced each other

And her eyes passed over mine -  

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miracle eyes, 

magic, 

a whirlpool of auburn 

and streaks of colored ochre.

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I took a deep breath before I said my words

 and vowed, silently, to myself: 

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Catastrophe, calamity,

So be it, come what may: 

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To get lost in those eyes 

For just this moment 

I'd die happily 

Every day.

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