Light, off-white, airy
Unblemished March in New York City
We arrive at the Citadel of Columbia
Dress and shoes perfect
Everyone is here
Waiting for the show

Too many

I imagined, getting married in a field
In a friend's  back yard
On the beach
More intimacy than performance

This is a production
Nervous like an actress back stage
The ceremony lasts a thousand years
I feel like a hundreds of daggers are stuck in the ***** of my feet

You crush the glass
In the small white bag mass produced for the purpose
We are legal at last
Acknowledged by the State of New York

I look into your eyes and see a blank, empty space

Nothing has changed
Nothing will make you
belong
to me