TULA
Double Wedding
By Romi Rabanal

The bride marches down the aisle
immaculately covered
laces piercing the fine pores of her skin
(that has not kissed summer nor made love with the rain)
All itchy and hot
she braves the altar's
carpeted aisle that felt like sand
on her 3-inch heeled designer shoe
She could barely breathe.
This bride,
with the corsett strangling her
torso.

Outside
in an old tree house
She bleeds.
He surrenders.
They tremble.
Naked bodies
Souls
entertwined.

Church bells belt their tired celebration.

The bride who could barely breathe passes her bouquet of
procedures to the next clueless maiden.

While she rests her head on her lover's chest
and whisper
"till death do us part."

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