"...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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