The Altar

The wind tosses red petals
Into the dainty air of anticipation
As strangers face me in despair
When I am walking towards you
Tips of toes catch on my dress
As my veil obscures the narrow aisle
Of the cold chapel that prickles my skin
And stings my glassy eyes
My knees buckle at the cross
Which commands my sworn devotion
And the metal branding my finger
Causes a torrent of guilt and fear
My chastity is waiting to be broken
As we inch closer to the final verdict
And lips are parted in ready formation
Where crafted vows are slipping through
I meet the gaze of the holy priest
Who looks at me in righteous doubt
That my fidelity is already cracking
Before we’ve even said “I do”
I close my eyes and breathe in
The stale air of promises
And realize the man standing at the altar
Should not be you

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