The morning after my marriage
I stood on a cliff
and thought about why it happened this way,
and who's hand I'd really taken.
I backed away
and when the wind pushed me forward,
the edge of my dress caught on a rock
and I didn't die that day,
so maybe all I'm grateful for is the truth:
death does exist within love,
and promises linger patiently
waiting for the wake.
Cover photo by Bernadetta Watts