Fireflies

 

We all walk in.

Without the slightest idea

Of what this will take.

An aisle.

Two families come in, one goes out.

Stillettos crush rose petals

The bride

Anointed, perfumed, adorned,

A goddess, a gift.

We talk about God or we don’t.

We make vows.

We break a glass or we don’t

We toast.

She was wild.

He was lazy.

She was driven.

He was conservative.

She dated a convict.

He woke up drunk on someone’s yard.

We cut the cake.

We dance as generations watch,

Crocodile Rock and Brown Eyed Girl.

We lift the bride and groom on chairs.

We cross ourselves.

Throw flowers

Festoon the bedroom.

Whisper what was wrong.

Who was jealous.

Who was there

That she had slept with

Who was there

That he had a crush on.

It should have been me.

It should have been her. 

Dad came.

Dad didn’t come.

Dad came drunk.

Dad brought his new girlfriend.

It’s her wedding day,

Couldn’t he just

For one single day.

And she handled it all so well.

She looked so beautiful.

Her sister looked miserable.

His mother looked tense.

The promise of that day.

The crown prince and princess.

Disappointing wedding sex..

Exhaustion.

 

Apartments, houses, jobs.

Money problems.

A leaky roof.

You work and make partner

You work but don’t make partner.

You never work, and never make partner. 

Your painting sells.

Your painting doesn’t sell.

You give it to your mother.

You get the job you wanted.

The woman you hate gets the job you wanted.

You get the part.

You don’t get the part.

The part goes to a name.

And hasty sex

And messy living room

And toys and kids

One boy one girl.

So fragile.

Like the glass.

Like your foot on the glass. 

 

And longing looks from coworkers

Wondering if you should, or might you,

If the time was just right or just wrong,

Could you live with yourself?

And what are the rules we’re dealing with here anyway?

I’m not supposed to have female friends?

I can’t text my friend who happens to be a guy?

We never dated, I never slept with him,

Maybe once a lifetime ago.

And you’re still thinking about him,

I married you, didn’t I?

And counseling.

I think we’re making progress here.

That’s all the time we have this session,

Why don’t we look at the calendar

And see when you can come in by yourself

And she can come in by herself

So we can work through these issues apart and together.

 

The bonds of marriage are blood.

Or tissue paper.

Or rusted iron.

Or silk cuffs,

And your home is a pleasure dome

Or a prison

Or a carnival ride.

Or a madhouse.

And maybe the kids need braces

And you talk to your son’s teacher

About behavioral problems

Or your daughter’s teacher about self-esteem issues

And are there problems at home?

At night you might cry together

Over how this isn’t what you planned

And maybe you won’t touch each other for weeks

And the space between you in bed becomes an abyss

And maybe you both start turning your attention to the kids

Because you think that looking in that face again might blind you. 

 

And you walk that aisle eyes wide shut,

Say no I won’t do this,

And yes I will do that, and

And maybe you have to get drunk beforehand

And make your vows into jokes

Then sign your name,

As if your name could save you 

As if the maelstrom of you

Could be contained in letters

Because

Through all that

Even you knew what you were promising.

That no matter who we become and who we create,

I open all my doors to you

And I will say yes to you

And all your combustible wildness

And the endless

Shedding of skin after skin

Turning ourselves inside out over and over

Like the planet Venus

A new surface every million years

No cell of us surviving

And through all that I say

All that is what I say yes to

All that is what I vow to protect

All that is what I give this body to

This body that will fall to dust before us.

 

And when you finally dare to look in that face again,

It’s like cool summer rain

It’s a dam bursting

Over insatiable earth

And you’re crying beneath that rain,

Wet skin beneath each others’ hands.

And maybe your mother said

That married people are like oxen yoked together

But I say you and I are like

Fireflies dancing together on a summer’s night.