Wedding Dress

We are vow creatures
Seemingly kept in line
By a pledge, or the remembrance
Of one done long ago and we keep our
Piece of the bargain, to love, to cherish
To keep the hands clean
When that saucy siren seemingly knocks on your door
And keeping the hands dirty
When she is down with the flu
And you’re the knight in immunity-armor
Who brings her Panadol and cough syrup
And lifts her back to hunky-dory

And in that exercise
Of love-giving, the vow, seemingly like
A prayer of belief, runs forward on “I do”s
Like when she’s huffing and puffing
And you’re holding her hand
To let a tiny head climb out from her pelvis
And in that “I do” there is something
Beautiful – that what is unbroken or unprone
To wither, is worth the extra mile! –
After all, a vow is the armistice
To lay down your weapons, like pride and ego
And to bear love as a gift
And that vulnerability is an island
Just about big enough for two people
And “I do”, is Eden’s gate
When very little makes sense
Yet something worth-keeping does.


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