by Gideon Burton
Be angry, find and spill your blackest bile.
Complain as though I wished you were more shrill.
Burst into tears and beat my chest at will.
Condemn, accuse, while shouting all the while.
The storm will thunder, then its winds will pass
You and I will still be lashed together.
Best lovers love who weather every weather.
And I am ready: let your lightning crash.
I do not need a reason for your rage--
the world is thick enough to vex the best.
And as emotion rises to its crest
Return and act your Oscar on this stage.
Our marriage is your harbor, refuge, port
where we will turn each tragedy to sport.
Photo: flickr - incubos (adapted)