We will choose
We will choose whom we
marry – but not what they
become [my friend didn’t
respond to my lines] – Our
soured experiences melt –
we merge into one – equal
failings poke us rigid – In a
count of [nearly-matched]
decades we will be seeing
age-soured reflections as
lines – Differences rise up –
[unto liver spot-dot-to-dot-
constellations across skin]
& self-published maps will
fail to guide us – loneliness
again – no lines to our end