Save the date, the letter reads.
The date staring me in the face,
with the time right beside.

I remember our time, although
it was never dated, only stated.

My face gleams,
reflected in the gold embroidered letters.
The date and time leaving an impression.
The letters and words sinking in.
Permanently pressed.

The letter sealed two fates.
A celebration to connect two souls.
But no room for a third party,
at the party that is.

Guests will arrive with gifts,
setting them atop the table.
As I find room for my excess baggage.

Perfect gift to receive before the honeymoon.
In my eyes, not others.
As they approach and say,

“You ruined her day! Do you even care?”

And I reply, “I do.”