One thing I learned fast
being married,
he advised over lunch, is that
we can’t share toothpaste.
For 42 years I’ve rolled mine up,
nice and neat, while she can’t even
manage to cap the lid.

The entire conversation I imagined them standing
divided at their bathroom sinks. And when the talk
turned toward other rooms, I tried not to follow–
too young and new to understand anyhow.

I heard a story as a child
of a farmer gifted a purse
that never emptied of coins
and of a widow from the Bible,
her oil and flour that never emptied
of Elijah’s promise from God.

We usually brush our teeth to give
the other a polite hint, to
not ruin the mood.

And against all upbringing and experienced advice
I keep the damn lid open
………………………………………………..and ugly if it’s hinged,
…………………………………….thrown in the trash if it ain’t:

spilling this
uncapped life of
unprotected fearlessness,
letting the extra harden
and crust off
like remnants on the bed sheets
unweary of excess,
as if the Colgate and the love
of this morning
…………………….it pours out into
will never run dry.

– Seth Grindstaff

Author’s Note: Everyone receives advice their first year of marriage. The following advice was offered to me early on. Now every time I brush my teeth, I’m reminded of how accepting each other’s differences brings us closer.