Call it a good marriage -
For no one ever questioned
Her warmth, his masculinity,
Their interlocking views;
Except one stray graphologist
Who frowned in speculation
At her h's and her s's,
His p's and w's.

Though few would still subscribe
To the monogamic axiom
That strife below the hip-bones
Need not estrange the heart,
Call it a good marriage:
More drew those two together,
Despite a lack of children,
Than pulled them apart.

Call it a good marriage:
They never fought in public,
They acted circumspectly
And faced the world with pride;
Thus the hazards of their love-bed
Were none of our ****** business -
Till as jurymen we sat on
Two deaths by suicide.

I stare at my signature,
the gentle loops and flourishes. Trace
my finger over the soft O's and I’s.

I wonder if my pain is written there,
all the frustration and anguish
of my 51 years,
the rare, ineffable moments
of pure magic and joy.

I search the delicate skin of my wrists
for signs. Faint, hesitant scars
where I once tried to die.

The doctor asks for the clipboard.
I hand it to him
and smile.