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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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Dec 28, 2025
Dec 28, 2025 at 12:01 AM UTC
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?
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.
taylor-henry
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Dec 28, 2025
Dec 28, 2025 at 12:01 AM UTC
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