the wedding

i remember the day
as hot as i was anxious
eager to take you as my
husband, eyes brimming
with tears, i was your lover
and a maid, a soon to be
wife when the crowd arrived
in my small room, my army
of attendants to see what
should be done was done,
my hair pinned with ninety-
nine clips, surely symbolic
but of what? I shimmied
into my princess gown with
earrings and a necklace
you had given, my kiss-me
crimson lips primed for
first touch of lip and holy
smack of marriage. Elsewhere,
you walked and worried,
thinking of your last day
of freedom unknowing
it was this that i wanted
to give.

We would be two souls
united by a god you did
not believe in, and i thought
my belief would be enough
to carry us through, so
i entered the church, sun
streaming through the colored
glass and was sure that something
holy and above was to take
place; felt it with all my Celtic
enthusiasm, never really
knowing the hesitancy
you felt. You gave no look
to betray the inner-soul
your panic or your want
of some other. Time would
bear it out. No amount
of thurible incense would
smoke out your demons
those hidden in soul’s
Labyrinth, beckoning
and olive-sinned. No.
It was only me; your too
plump and Scottish bride,
all ginger freckles and nerves
my princess gown unfitting
sorry disappointment i saw
register in your eye, quick
blink. I paid no heed. Proceed,
said "I will" at every prompt,
Episcopal to the end, i believed
i prayed for some miracle
the one that would bear it out
and with a kiss, sealed our fate.