to the day
his teenage daughter died in a horrible accident.
I'm eating pizza in north Provo with the man who saved my life
and we're making up for lost time.
"I don't see you often enough.
last time," he said,
"you were about to get married. what happened?"
I hold up my naked ring finger(s):
he laughs between bites.
a deep breath (the sound of an impending lie):
on this awful anniversary of an unnecessary tragedy
I don't have the heart to tell him that
in spite of the long list of Everything Else:
I never forgave her
for texting during 2/3 of the funeral.