(c) 2/25/2025
No trip to the Louvre. No fumbling je veux
as we ordered croissants. The plan for Paris never
happened.
The week in Tobago, the delicious honeymoon he promised.
All the sea turtles nesting on Irvine Back Bay. No.
No cross-country trip. And no new couch
even after he ripped the back off my old sofa
to free his pet
corn snake.
The newest model
mustang was reposed.
The fake job he listed on the sale document,
that job he so bragged about, no income.
His whole resume a fraud.
Degrees unattained. Positions
never held. The
zirconium wedding ring
to symbolize his love. So much like my father.
Every year with him was diminishment. And still,
I stayed.
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