By: Elina Mosheyeva

I will not forget when

the white of your dress swore to

the black of my suit and

the red of your stains chose

my god as your god, too.

Periodically I would glimpse at

the way your face changed and

your voice shrilled from

—someone older, far from the woman

I was sure you were, then.

I journeyed away and always returned

the expectations you once had for me to

be supportive or present or

responsible to you, too.

Because our life was perfectly

full of love and perhaps you

missed the part where

you accepted my flesh as your

flesh and I took a part in it, then.

Woman, do you regret the

light departure from

the house you knew would never follow

you with the three children you

bore to god and to me, too?


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