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A Letter To The Wife I Never Got To Love

The way we met was organic

“I have a friend, I really think you’d like her”

Meeting you, shy and rosy-cheeked

Falling for you was easy

The way you held the stem of a wine glass like a cigarette

And the way you tipped 30%

Sharing lipstick in the car on the drive to my dad’s house

Splitting appetizers

Exchanging laughs like currency

Our home, filled with warm candlelight and perfectly placed pillows

You let me paint the kitchen green to match your eyes

Heart of the home - where love translates to a plate

And oh how I love to satisfy you with a perfect bite

We make pasta on Sundays

You teach me how to make sourdough

I, the chef, and you, the baker

We buy flowers at the farmer’s market on weekends

You pull over on the highway to get a picture of the orange painted skies

Sternum to sternum

You hold me like a secret

But you speak of me like truth

You trace the scars on my spine like brail

Reading, learning, understanding me

Forgiving the claws that left me this way

I claim the corner of your collarbone as a safe place to rest

I braid your hair while we watch movies

My father loves the way you root for the Broncos

And your mother loves the way I root for you

We take turns dealing with the spiders

Never killing them

Always returning them to the Earth

Because our love is gentle

Because our love is merciful

Because our love is so generous, we must pass it on- even to the bugs

We smile at the young boys with their hands interwoven, tied in knots

We ignore the disapproving glances when we kiss in the produce section

Violets in a jar on your nightstand

Your favorite sweater drenching me in your scent

Amber, honey, and soil

From tending to the peppers in our garden

Sometimes, the basement floods

Sometimes, our plans unravel and laugh at us

Sometimes, the heavy stones make their way into our pockets

Never dissolving

Always, together

For what is love if not enduring the many shapes of cruelty-

Simply for the sake of being the one who gets to unzip your dress

And bearing witness to the crow’s feet that grow each time I have the pleasure of making you laugh?

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Written by
taylor-henry
Published
Dec 28, 2025
Lines·Words
48·392
Notes

I’ve been thinking a lot about my sexuality. Should I never build a life with a woman, I want her to know she is loved, even if she doesn’t exist.

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