My job was holding her precious flowers
God forbid they rest on the table
She told me to pick up the white lace before the dirt would
grab hold.
She was indeed beautiful
I’m sure she would say the same
She also said mine was “clover-green”
More like knee-length piss silk to me
I hold my smile
Like she would a sticky toddler
A kiss, a bite of icing
and then 15 minutes
of $25,000 conclude
With clutched hands
my suedo-smile fades
As theirs open the honeymoon door
The wall that once shared gossip
tears and drunken banter
Now has no tenant
on the other side
In my sheets, the tears
are the only sound I have now
Away into the future, she went
Into the past I am stuck.
