Not you two…
The wedding goers run to spread,
Middle-grooved, life-burnt, ambitions pinched.
They remember you reed-like, proud.
The tallest, the thinnest, the broadest of smiles.
Twin souls, all that gaff which you too
You two
Believed.
No one knew how compromise was already sewn tight
In hems, cross-stitch of last chances,
Loosely looped into seconds
Then thirds.
Your glamorous wasp waist
So thin
The twigs snapped soon and dropped
In dismayed defeat, booted into the mud.
What do Facebook pictures of gappy, goofy children show
Other than absence of parents.
Friends sigh and shuffle
Take sides
Blame quivering dull like blancmange
To be appointed, swallowed whole,
Perhaps even digested.
findingtimetowrite 