I Have Many Marriages

We married each other in these places:

In my room.
In your mother's house.
In the grocery store.
At the bar when you made a tomato into a rose for me.
When we slept in the same bed and I dreamt of green grass on my grandmother's lawn (and it turned into a blanket and the voice said 'you're next')
When I received the mass card from your funeral.
When we made yams while millionaires worked for generic grocery companies.

Places are times, also.

The
Flux
Factor.

We married each other when I called the commissioner to find you.
When you brought me a bumper sticker from Belmore.
When you brought me a flashlight.
When I, the un-divine found you on the ether.
When I gave you the bird.

Azul.

When we were in on a lie together.

When we made aliases together.

When I said, "I waited all week for this."

When your father died.

When we made up dreams of the future together.

When I sang an Indigo Girls song to you.
When our hero left the planet.
When we spoke in vernacular.
When you got down on one knee and took my hand.