he city clerk' s office s
third wedding anniversary, a day to ce
lope, the certified copy of our m
y ears: "There is no marriage certificate on
ct life
my life, was legally marrie
d in for me, the man
e, every intimate moment we shared,
grotesque drumbeat a
uld th
the woman who promised me for
I have bee
igned as a monument to our love, and heard
. You know I can' t leave him, not yet. He' s too useful, his name still carries weig
a physical blow, chokin
as a prop, a stepping st
ied in that hallway, replaced
her the satisfa
d disa
n her world built on my back, I woul