"Stipendia enim peccati mors gratia autem."
Breath-deprived, the marriage is given up like doves
let go on wedding day. Where before the bride wears white,
now black is the motif, the sun eclipsed by clouds.
Soon, we'll reach the terminal
(si non sola mors me et te separaverit)
but the road is still bumpy up ahead.
We haven't paid ours
but the debt collector will soon find our address
and he might not care about the house or the old car.
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