He was 1 of 4,
but an only child.
I was 1 of 2,
but rather than being loved equally
by both parents,
I’d been loved by one,
my sister,
by the other.

My father had read me Bible stories,
my stepfather,
poetry without pictures.
My mother had read to me not at all,
my mother,
whom I’d misread all along.

A family was eternal
in life everlasting,
but my family
would undo what God
would join
in our temporary lives.

My life, pre-Mormonism,
had been one of simplicity;
in Mormonism,
it became one of complexity;
in post-Mormonism,
it became what it should
have always been.

I wanted to drive,
I wanted marriage & children,
a college degree.
They had made me want more,
when before,
David’s love had been enough.