Wedding Bells

The white veil trained along
the red carpet,
like a yellow snake crawling
on the green grass.

I walked reluctantly,
my father’s warm arm
in mine. I glanced around
to see the groom, standing
tall with a gray suit.

“Why gray? Why not blue?”

With white lilies,
in hand, he cast
a taunting smile at me,
breeding familiarity.

A tear was peeping from the corner of my eyes searching for any signs of happiness, in the other’s eye.

“Do I have to wear
this relationship on my finger?”

The commotion in my brain
was like the haunting
bells, in the cemetery
on a new moon night.

I turned around and looked
at the door, engraved
with flowers of the spring
and my feet moved.