epithalamelegy

our vow—

if vowless by thirty

then us

was such

a stupid, childish way

to say love.

but love we were;

children also.

on the corner

of May Street our mamas

& us waited for the bus

so we could march

in between

the tall-backed seats

like an aisle.

i’ll carry you

with me like a bride

over the threshold.

i’ll carry you

with me like a bouquet

or a corsage.

i can’t put you down

& even if i did

you would still appear

in our prom photo

on an unsuspecting shelf

in my childhood home.

O Cyd, i still find

myself whispering to you

like a secret between bus seats.

O Cyd, why aren’t we still

in first grade

& crushes.

O Cyd, it crushed me

& so many

of us.

O Cyd, when i heard

it laid me down

like a wedding broom.

O Cyd, i jumped

& held my breath

for you.