Till death do us part,
for as long as we both shall live,
She and He vowed.
[1] Paper
maps for each of the stamps in Their new passports. First time flyers, squeezing shut their
eyes and
each otherโs arms
with every turbulent drop, souls moved
by ospitalitร italiana,
we haven’t left but when can we
come back?
[2] Cotton
onesies with twirling green elephants and
polka dot yellow whales, impossible!
Just like the tiny, assured, butterfly kicks She feels
from the inside, He from the outside.
Impossible! said infertility doctors,
and yet. A miracle.
[3] Leather
armchair, second-hand and faux,
because He loves animals too much,
or maybe just enough.
A seat worn lovingly thin
by other poets and writers,
ready for the next big one, He’ll be
the one
[4] Flowers
laid on a grave that never was,
by a big brother excited to be big
and a brother,
but who’s now just
big.
[5] Wood
deck, sun-loved and splintered and oh so old,
precisely matching the rest of the house,
but Theirs, all theirs,
oh what a luxury.
[6] Candy,
sticky mosaic adorning gingerbread house edges,
Their son’s giggles spill
out, and
gumdrops and peppermints fill up Their
mouths. Gingerbread dwelling incomplete,
but hearts sweetly, sumptuously, severely full.
Can this be forever.
[7] Copper
Moscow Mule mugs He started to use
not just on weekends or special occasions.
Hammered metal shines brightly,
as His eyes, unfocused.
[8] Bronze
sobriety coin for His one year,
tucked tightly in the wallet, a daily reminder and
proof that He can and
must.
[9] Pottery
class after a templated Reduction in Force email [send all] by
an anonymous corporate executive
ends Her eleven year tenure at a
company that almost almost broke her soul.
[10] Aluminum
dog tags for the unadoptable
senior pitbull They adopt
and love
till the end of days, his.
Proving second chances do exist
and maybe, sometimes, often, always,
a simple kindness can be
enough. Is enough.
[11] Steel
city untouched by decades,
same creaking church doors, bustling corner store,
cracked neon light at the twenty four hour diner,
a block from His childhood home,
one He grew up in,
now blemished by a For Sale sign, to buy His father a room in
one to grow old in.
[12] Silk camisole, She wears to faraway lunch with
a friend,
just a lunch, just a friend, if anyone asks,
but don’t ask. Be it guilt or
conscience, She draws the line,
doesnโt cross the line, a decent woman with
indecent thoughts, this is the end of the line.
[13] Lace
dress, Her mamaโs favorite,
worn only for special occasions and
this is one.
Finally
may she rest in peace,
while those around attempt to find theirs,
twisting hands and wailing, oh she was so young,
but depression never did give one damn
about that.
[14] Ivory
keys on a Baby Grand, He rescues from an estate sale in a
nice neighborhood, where it stood dull and insulted, marked rubbish,
now dance effortlessly under young fingers,
cascading Debussy’s Clair de Lune into every corner.
A reminder that treasure or trash
are just a matter of perspective.
Yes, itโs about the piano.
[15] Crystal
meth overdose checkbox
ticked off by a bored autopsy technician, barely looking at Her brother’s barely there frame, Her eyes
blurry as She replaces Doe with his real last name
on the death certificate.
No longer unknown,
but also no longer.
[20] China,
Her best, heaping with
cinnamon apple and beef onion pierogies,
clang, clang, clang of the glasses
for the Juilliard โwe’re pleased to accept youโ letter, they still send those,
but mostly
for Their son who didn’t listen
to his sophomore year math teacher who said to not
waste his goddamn time with music.
[25] Silver
ring glistens on His mother’s manicured finger,
for the last time, before the lid is lowered,
and earth, heavy and solemn,
falls and breaks apart
on the wood. He is too old to be an orphan,
but still.
[30] Pearl
earrings She wears
with pride
as Their child says I do to the love of their life
in a state, happy state, that allows such
basic human rights luxuries.
[35] Coral
reefs crossed off Their bucket list,
before they are diminished by human arrogance and greed, crossed off the face of the earth
beauty not yet diminished.
They float and
hold hands underwater.
[40] Ruby
blood in a vial as She listens to single-digit month
vile cancer diagnosis. His ruby heart,
which once robbed of His love cannot bear the
pain of absence.
And doesn’t.
Now death brings Us together.
Natasha Dolginsky currently resides in San Jose, California, with her beloved husband, two daughters and four pets. She grew up deeply influenced by Russian literature inspiring a lifetime of love for poetry. Her writing frequently explores themes of identity, social structures, and complexities of modern life.
