Couldn’t believe the way I was sweating, the day of my wedding
Was nervous before; but today I was ready
Amazed at my bride, there was no phasing my pride
Till the gaze of my eyes...was trapped by the maid by her side.
Exquisite. Transcendent. Beyond plateaus of Nirvana
Her beauty could make the most faithful of men, leave the Madonna
No love song was good enough, no;
Not a worthy note from the most moving music of men,
Her face was like witnessing the moon giving birth to stars---
While on hallucinogens
A marvelous secret the universe wasn’t saying---
I came back to my senses. Everyone stood. The music was playing.
Slowly my bride walked. It was still way too quick
Her beauty...infectious. But her maid...made me sick
Gazing upon her Maiden of Honor, her skin, her eyes,
The way she fit the clothes she was wearing---
My bride’s face---wait: was it glaring?
Had my bride noticed me staring?
I fixed my posture. Stood tall. Here came my bride. Show her the charm.
I smiled. The assembly sat. We faced the preacher. She took hold of my arm.
The preacher spoke. A blur...
The maiden: I ached, yearning for my next view of her
Do I risk glancing at her, and be seen...By my veiled executioner?
Facing the preacher---a sermon on marriage I now hated him for
Far too many words. I couldn’t wait anymore.
Sweating. My neck stiffened. I just needed a look
Slowly my neck turned, with the most infinitesimal of movements,
Be a man. All I need is a glance. It was simple to do it.
I turned my head. Slowly and crafty.
Finally!
One eye was upon her---and she was looking at me
Her eyes were on mine---and looked as pained as mine were
I turned away in shock. Did she want me as well?
The preacher stopped in mid-sentence
My mind raced; calm down. Be tense-less.
My bride---the preacher---the hundreds of people---
Which of them saw through my pretenses?
“Face the bride.”
We turned. I removed the veil. Can’t break my stride
The rings were brought out, mocking in the way they shined
“Do you take this man...”
“Yes.”
The maiden: without her, I may just die.
"Do you take this woman---"
the way the maiden looked at me---Her eyes: did they just cry?
“---As long as you both shall live?”
Deafening silence. My bride sensed something was wrong
An ocean of people---whispers---I was taking too long
Be a man! Grab the maiden and run---live the most blissful of songs
The maiden---it was in her eyes too
An ocean of people, staring and looking
No...DON’T care...I can still make my move---
her eyes widened and bloomed---
I was not a man.
“Yes pastor. I do."
