Little Boxes

Little Boxes
 
I make my own box
With thick black lines
Straight and sharp
Permanent
This box that will never change
 
I’m no longer allowed to say I am married
By law
Refusing to own single
By love
Separated
That feels close
I make my own
Box
To contain myself
Within these fours lines
It’s quite simple really
 
I use a Sharpie
In black ink
Which really isn’t a color
But the absorption of all the rest
And total absence
Of light
I do not mark an x nor a check
I fill in that damn box completely
So there can be no doubt
I am and will always be
Widowed