"...Walk into / the center of everything."
                                               ~ January Gill O'Neil

Altogether, I have been married forty years—
fifteen in a union that broke,  bit by bit until 
the inevitable, even without a formal name to it. I left 
that skin behind. Never thought I would do it again, 
but here I am. Twenty-five this year,  with a man who fit 
his fortunes to mine. We live in a green house fronted 
by a pair of Japanese maples, with a bright orange love 
seat in a room wall-papered with books and the hearts 
of plants spilling generously out of themselves. Laundry 
unsorted, coffee and noodles in the pantry, the entry 
adorned with favorite coats. We remember the thrift 
store find of a coffeetable, what we wore when we 
stood on the boardwalk that burnished day. Cake 
slicer in the drawer, file folders of the bankrupt years. 
Keepsakes we can't bear to throw away.  Everywhere, 
evidence of undimmed desire for life in this world. 

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