My brother is engaged. I've already begun to wear the hesitant face, the redness, the dropped eyes. Begun dribbling nervous laughter. You'll be next, they'll say. The other, younger sibling. The single one, they think. I'll have practiced my wordless reply. And sit again on the faint line between me and the me who is the son, the cousin, the nephew
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Also, wife is a terrible sounding word. Don't be one.
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