I could tell at once that you were married by the way you listened as I sifted the flour, the way you kissed me on the ear and soaped me in the shower and paraded around my likewise body. I could tell you were married from the index cards and the oil painting of a screamed woman crucified on a double bed, and how you opened the car door to pull out the groceries, trained. You'd have told likewise from the way I waited on the other side, and doled out two of everything, even when there was only one, breaking it in half; and the ache born from unnamed tear wells by the vicious coupling, melting icicles in the time it takes a giant to eat all the Little People.
Julia Older has written 33 books. Her new book-length poem TALES OF THE FRANÇOIS VASE is based on a real 25-century Greek vase. The book is illustrated with Iliad figures and includes a CD of her award-winning NPR radio play. The Vase talks at Hobblebush.com.