(All my poetry encompasses ‘Affairs of the Heart’,

This is a sad one.)

 

Somehow we knew 

we were never right for each other

And yet we allowed

the pageantry to proceed,

I in the bridal gown of my dreams

you, in a slightly small tuxedo

choking you at the throat.

 

I remember you wanting to run,

leaving your house by the back door,

your mama calling out your name, 

your brothers looking through alleyways 

your sisters shielding me from pain…

 

What could I do? 

There were hundreds depending on us,

an innocent baby swimming in my womb,

I was probably more afraid then you were –

two scared sacrificial lambs

on their way to the great ole matrimonial dream.

 

Afterwards, when the dust settled,

when the dazzle dissipated 

from all the champagne speeches,

and the bridal-party stumbled home,

 

we found ourselves alone again

holding on tightly to a money-bag of gifts

and a slightly warped version of the vow.