Luca Marino was built hard.
bones made of iron, and
skin composed of fresh pine.
he always felt like a forest
at the exact moment the sun
rose over it.
he drank whiskey from
the moment he woke,
pouring it into teas & coffees &
Rough hands built for rough work,
he spent most of his time trying
to touch me delicately;
sure i would break.
When i turned 23
he built me a bassinet;
spent three weeks in that studio.
My 24th New Years he searched for
my favorite champagne and ended
up robbing our neighbors for it.
When we decided to move in together
he built a cabin in the middle
of a clearing.
When I turned 26
Luca Marino drove into town
for strawberry ice cream
and never came back.
all that whiskey helped him
drive himself straight into a river.
When I was 27, I left the house,
and our baby
had outgrown her bassinet.
i chose the farthest point from our life,
and moved to the biggest city i